


Golden Boys

by Geny614



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5sos cake - Freeform, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Bottom Luke Hemmings, Cinderella Elements, College AU, Crush at First Sight, Drama & Romance, Drugs, Drunken Kissing, Friendship, Heartbreak, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, One Night Stand, Top Calum Hood, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, drinking lots, hint of mashton, mashton truly are the best friends, messy af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-07-24 13:39:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geny614/pseuds/Geny614
Summary: It was an accident the way we meet. At least that’s what I’d tell everyone when they ask how we actually met.That doesn’t matter right now because the second time we meet Calum still doesn’t know my name.  He doesn't remember me.The third time we meet he finds me in an ocean of bodies and screams my name.That’s what matters to me.





	1. Finally You Will Dream Reality

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first 5sos fic and it just had to be cake. sorry its so messy i hope you guys enjoy it!

 

_It was an accident the way we meet. At least that’s what I’d tell everyone when they ask how we_ _actually_ _met._

_That doesn’t matter right now because the second time we meet_ _Calum_ _doesn’t remember my name_ _._

_The_ _third time we meet he finds me in an ocean of bodies and screams it._

_That’s what matters to me._

     College is a mess. It is a place where a bunch of overgrown children go to learn how to be adults and it doesn’t always work. Luke is a third year and he’s still not sure if it's working for him yet. At least he’s stopped ordering take-out whenever the cafeteria decided to serve crap with a side of shit (which was every other day) and learned how to cook for himself. Anyway, what makes college an even bigger mess are the parties and the easily accessible alcohol. Someone around you can get you what you want and someone else can get it for cheaper. Luke learned that quickly enough in his first year. 

     Now, as a third year, the parties lost their glitz and glamour. Which wasn’t hard because most college parties were just a mess of bodies getting sweaty off cheap beer, vomit and bad music. Luke has formulated the perfect way to survive any college with minimal emotional and physical damage.

  1. Know your limit.  
  2. If you want to get trash let a friend know so they can watch out for you. 
  3. Always have your phone on you.  
  4. Don’t drink anything you haven’t poured yourself. 
  5. Drink that fucking water.  
  6. Have some fries before bed. 



     He learned his formula the hard way after his first year and half of his second year. He’s gotten much wiser since then or maybe his alcohol capacity had grown over the years (his liver probably hates him). Anyway, this essentially meant there were fewer killer hangovers and fewer mornings waking up in a stranger’s bed with no recollection of the night before.

     The French fries rule came after he spent the better part of a crazy night of drinking in a McDonald's eating fries like it was his fucking job with his friends. The following day he miraculously woke up with no hangover.

     “Hey, you’re still coming tonight right?” a voice called out form his phone as it laid on his dresser. Luke was in the middle of picking out clothes for the night. 

     “No, I think I’ll just stay in and watch the Notebook again and order an extra-large pepperoni. You know the usual Saturday night for eligible bachelor Luke Hemmings” He muses as he decides over a plain black button up and red silky one. He already had on a pair of black leather pants. Something his younger self probably would have balked at if he saw them. Yet, Luke liked to think that with age not only did he become wiser about his alcohol consumption but his style choices as well.

     “Ha-Ha Luke you’re so funny you should really drop out now and pursue a career in comedy.” Luke rolled his eyes and slipped on the silky red shirt. He loved the way that material felt so smooth and cool over his skin every single time. It was like just a tiny little taste of luxury.

     “Thanks for the great life advice Ash, I’ll be sure to drop by my advisor’s office and let them know that I’m no longer going to be a music major instead I’m hitting comedy central. I’ll have a Netflix special in no time” He buttoned up the shirt but left the first two or three undone. The rose-red complimented his pale chest nicely. The phone in front of him cackled with a familiar laugh. Luke smirked to himself before he pushed his blond curls behind his ears. After the quiff had run its course Luke had let his hair grow out and let his curls remain. Maybe he had grown too lazy to straighten them every day or maybe he liked the way they looked on him. He liked the way the golden ringlets looked each time they fell from behind his ears. They looked pretty and Luke liked pretty things. 

      He didn’t know when it started. The slightest shift in his taste. He looked down at his red gel nails and smiled to himself. There was just something so satisfying in the shiny coat of color that contrasted so nicely against his pale fingers just like with his shirt. 

     “Are you done getting ready?” Ashton’s voice broke Luke away from his aimless train of thought. The blond looked towards the phone and then back down at his outfit and grabbed a necklace off of the dresser. He chose a couple of rings and slipped them onto his finger. 

     “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

     Luke looks at the mirror one last time and for the first time in a long time, he likes what he sees. 

 _Tonight_ _will be good_  he promises himself and ends the call.

     All college parties are the same. They’re generally big (unless they’re a “get together” and that’s just a couple of drinks and texts away from a proper party), loud and of course messy. None of those things really bothered Luke because he could be all of those at the same time. He just needed enough cheap liquor inside himself to get there. He was definitely on his way there already.

     “What is this?” Luke questioned the small plastic cup he was given. He glanced at it with a lazy grin before he tossed it back. Ashton had given it to him so he trusted his friend not to roofie him. It tasted a lot like tequila and it made him shiver violently. 

     “Why ask if you’re just gonna drink it anyway?” Ashton laughs and it’s all high pitched and silly. He’s defiantly drunk and Luke just laughs with him.

     “Doesn’t matter after a while it all just starts to taste the same,” Luke says as he sways to the new song blasting over some speaker. It's funky and he’s getting lost in it.

     Ashton disappears with the promise of more drinks. Luke is too far gone to care. He’s grooving and riding this beat with his hips and that’s all he cares about. His head lolls back and he can feel just a thin sheen of sweat drip down his neck. The room is getting tighter with all the bodies jamming against each other. It’s like a fever and they’re all just trying to sweat it out.

     Maybe, he also cares about the pair of hands on his hips that grab him and pull him close. He hears himself gasp but it falls away into a drunken giggle. Whoever has him feels warm and he likes it. They rock together as the song melts away to something slower and dirtier. It’s always like that in these parties and Luke doesn’t think he’d get tired of any time soon.

     Some point Ashton comes back and whoever Luke was dancing with is gone not that he misses those phantom hands. He’s got a red plastic cup filled with a sweet cocktail and it’s enough to help forget everything before minutes ago. All that matters right now is the music. It makes everyone including Luke bounce to the beat. He bops his head and his curls sway around his head. The light that catches them highlight his hair like a golden halo.

      An angel holding a red solo cup is never a good sign. But he smiles to the blurry world around him convinced everything is alright.

      Luke hadn’t seen him. He comes up from behind and grabs him by the hips. A pair of large hands holds him close until his back is pressed against someone’s chest. This position isn’t new to Luke, it’s a favorite. Especially when the alcohol is calling the shots.

     “Oh,” Luke says as he feels his own ass brush against something.  _Oh indeed._  He leans back closer, he likes it. He likes the way whoever is holding him feels so hot. It’s like their body heat engulfs him, swallows him and he’s lit up from the inside. It spreads quickly and now it’s all over him.

     “Oh,” the stranger repeats and his voice is so close to Luke’s ear but his lips are not nearly close enough.

     “Did you need something?” Luke chuckles, and their bodies are swaying together. They’re becoming one to the song bouncing off the speakers. Their bodies infused together with sweat, alcohol, and hormones.

     “Just this sweet ass,” the stranger murmurs and they press their lower half to swell of Luke’s ass. Luke sucks in a breath. He knows that voice.

     It’s a voice he’s only heard in his dreams ever since he was 19 years old.

     He doesn’t believe it. But his heart skids to a stop before it bounces against his own ribcage following to the song above their heads. It's him. He knows it. He knows it in his bones. 

     It feels like hours later when Luke can feel something again. It’s only been ten minutes between the third shot Ashton gave him after all the cocktails and beers and when those hands took him by the hips. The alcohol has thoroughly numbed away everything but it’s those hands on him that bring him back to life for just a second. Those hands caress his broad chest and leave him shivering because they’re so warm and everything else is just so cold.

     Maybe it feels this way because of him. Those hands they belong to him.

     Calum Hood.

     Luke hadn’t known it was Calum at first. It could’ve been any other bloke and it wouldn’t have mattered. He was no stranger to messy drunken one-night stands in these kinds of parties. Most of the time he welcomed them with open arms and legs. This time though he could feel something different. 

     Maybe it’s the way he holds Luke’s hips so close yet not close enough. As if he purposely wants to leave this echo of space between them and have the boy in his grip yearn for him even more. Calum knew all the best ways to drive someone crazy especially Luke Hemmings. He just didn’t know it. Luke couldn’t blame him because Calum didn’t remember. He didn’t know Luke.

     “Hey beautiful,” he breathes by Luke’s ear and none of it matters because he’d let Calum do anything he wanted with that voice.

     Their hips swing together and roll to the lucid rhythm and Luke is halfway convinced this had to be a dream. A dream conjured up by the mixed alcohol and the smoking he has done not that long ago. He knew it was a bad idea to crossfade but it felt so good and even better now. Then Calum presses his lips to the corner of Luke’s jaw and he lets out a gasp that is lost in the sound of the party. Calum’s lips feel so warm against his skin and he wants to feel them all over his body. 

     “Hey stranger,” Luke whispers when he finds his voice again. It sounds so far away to him that he isn’t even sure if he actually said the words out loud or if he just thought them. The chuckle by his ear lets him know he said them. It’s so deep and Calum’s breath tickles his ear. Luke leans back into him and tilts his head back so it rests on Calum’s shoulder giving the boy access to whatever he wants to touch.

    Calum is a stranger. A stranger Luke is willing to give everything to because he’s had a crush on him for the last two years.

    How could you have a crush on someone for two years and still not know each other on at least a first name base? Luke Hemmings knows exactly how to achieve that kind of feat.

     “You feel so good baby,” Calum groans into his ear with one hand on Luke’s ass. He squeezes the plump flesh through the material of his pants. Luke can’t hide the whiny noise tickling the back of his throat. He likes it. He loves it. He wants so much more. He wants it like in his dreams. 

     Luke turns his body around and he stares at the boy of his dreams. He drinks up every inch of golden skin that shitty lighting captures. He reaches up and takes hold of dark tufts of curly hair. He pulls Calum in and kisses him. He kisses him with two years' worth of intensity. It hurts. It hurts so good because Calum’s mouth is soft and warm. He tastes like bourbon and smoke. Luke’s arms come around and he can’t pull away not yet. Not until Calum kisses him back. Luke must’ve taken him by surprise because Calum kisses him with his eyes wide open. It's not until he tastes pineapple on Luke’s lips and feels his tongue timidly lick at the seam of his mouth that he kisses him back. His movements are slower but with purpose. He wants to kiss him. He wants him to know it.

    “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you just how good I can make you feel.” 

     This isn’t a dream.

* * *

 

     Two years ago, Luke was in the middle of his freshman year. It was spring semester and it was cold and cloudy January afternoon. The semester had just begun and Luke had still recovered from the fall semester. While he appreciated the long winter break it hadn’t been enough for him. He already missed his bed back at home and his mom. Though he hid it under the mounds of coursework he had to complete and the different parties he attended another guise of stress relief. Somewhere in between his classes and parties he met Ashton. Ashton was a year older than Luke and he had taken the young first year under his wing.

     That same afternoon Luke would get to meet Calum Hood by accident. It wasn’t like they ran into each other in the courtyard and Luke fell on top of Calum. They didn’t lock eyes and fall in love at first sight. No. None of that. Luke remembers that day quite well because he thinks about it every other chance he gets. It’s the day that changed his life for the next two years but leaves Calum’s life unbothered.

     For two years Luke is forgotten. A passing memory. Insignificant. 

     Now, he’s on his knees in front of Calum with a mouthful of cock and listening to the symphony of noises he’s plucking from said boy.

     It’s not a dream. 


	2. "You Were Mine For a Night"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calum doesn't remember the angel's name but he remembers the kiss and its enough.  
> Enough to want to remember more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I wanted to update sooner but this chapter turned out longer than I thought. Haha- but I hope the different povs aren't confusing. It goes; Calum, Luke, Calum. If there are any questions feel free to leave a comment! Or if you just wanna say hi and talk about cake :,) i need friends who like 5sos and cake. Hope you like the chapter!

  _I see him first in a crowd of moving bodies from across the room. At least that’s how I’ll tell the story when they ask us how we met. (Yeah, I’m thinking that far ahead, it might be the cocktails and shots talking). He’s like only a couple of feet away but at the same time, he seems so far away. But he shines. His eyes sparkle under the low lights so prettily and his golden curls toss about the air so carelessly. I’m convinced he’s not human. More like some mischievous faerie that has snuck into a human party with the intent of enamoring foolish boys and girls tonight. Then he’d bring them back to the forest and they’d never come back. I’d be okay with that. I’d let him take me anywhere he wanted._

_Maybe it’s the music- some funky pop song that’s speaking to my hips or the cocktail that Roy just gave me but I walk towards him. Angel. The closer I get the prettier he gets because I can see the gold eyeshadow shimmering on his eyes. His eyes are that perfect cerulean blue that poets for centuries have tried to describe. The kind of blue I’d sing songs about in my dreams. His lips are rosy and he’s got this big smile on his face. I want to kiss it._

_“Hey, beautiful,”_

_And that’s where I’d like to end the story but then you’d miss all the good parts._

* * *

 

     If there was someone to blame for all of this Luke believes it’s Ashton. Not only had he conned Luke out of a night in his apartment but he was the reason he mistakenly met Calum.  

     Back in Luke’s spring semester of his first year in college, he met Ashton during an event. The event was run by all of the school’s fraternities and sororities. Luke hadn’t meant to be there. It wasn’t his fault he had to walk through the courtyard to get to the café. He just wanted some lunch that didn’t totally suck. It was like there was a whole obstacle course built on the courtyard. There were even a giant inflatable slide and fucking potato sack races.  

 _What the fuck?_  College was a weird place. One day you’re stressing over a ten-page paper and the next there’s a fucking theme park right outside the library.  

     Luke got himself lost in between booths calling out to all unsuspecting students to “Come on and party, climb a wall, skip class!” 

     Okay, so maybe not all of that but it sure felt like that way back when Luke recalls the faraway memory. Now, he called afternoons like that another Thursday before exam season. At the time though Luke remembers vividly the spike of panic that surged through him as he stared out the large crowd moving between each attraction. When he began college, he felt as though his anxiety had gotten worse than usual. He had always been a nervous, shy and quiet person but college magnified those qualities in himself so intensely. If it weren’t for his roommate Luke would have probably never left his dorm except to go to class and scavenge for decent food in the cafeteria.  

     The café wasn’t far but it seemed like there was a battlefield in between himself and the cherry scones he wanted before class. Luke sighed, he could just turn back around and get his scones after when the inflatable slide and all its merry climbers were gone. But he was hungry and there was very little in this world that could stand between Luke’s stomach and food. 

     So, he walked passed as many booths as he could. He looked straight ahead and ignored their siren-like calls. No, he didn’t need to join the Alpha Sigma Troy whatever the fuck. He just needed cherry scones and maybe some coffee. 

     “Hey there handsome,” a chipper voice said to him and it threw Luke off so bad that he tripped over his own feet and nearly toppled over another booth. 

     “excuse me- sorry I just what-?” 

     The same voice laughed. When Luke looked up, he was met with a mop of bronzed curls and hazel eyes. 

     It wasn’t fair that the moment he met his future best friend, Luke was incredibly attracted to him. Also, it wasn’t fair that Ashton got to the one with good first impression and Luke ended up with a bruised kneecap and pride. 

     Ashton, (the boy who made Luke trip over his own damn feet) chucked, his eyes settled on what he obviously knew was a nervous and possibly a lost first-year student.  He was only a second year at the time so he knew well what it was like to be utterly lost and kind of nervous all the time. 

     “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you. You were just doing such a good job avoiding all the other booths. Thought I’d try something different.” Ashton smiled so easily and it was one of the first things that Luke noticed about him. His lips almost stretched lazily into the smile. Luke, on the other hand, grimaced over the whole ordeal.  

     “It’s alright. I needed a heart attack anyway now I won’t have to buy any coffee today. I’m sure this adrenaline kick will last me until class- or my fight or flight reflexes may kick in and I’ll just run away from my class.” Luke pushed his hand through the back of his hair. His cheeks were ruddy with embarrassment and high wired energy. His heart was still beating unsteadily. It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop staring at Ashton’s eyes. There an incredible shade of warm hazel brown and when the sun caught them they looked like they were made of milky caramel.  

     “Well, if you decide to ditch class you could to my house’s movie night. Theta Sigma is having a bad horror movie night tonight. It’ll be fun you know- a group of mostly friends and some strangers all trying to yell out the cleverest joke at the screen instead of actually watching the film.” Ash gestured to the poster beside him casually as if it weren’t the reason he was standing here in the middle of a free period. Luke didn’t have to look at the poster to know his answer. 

     “I’ll have to take a hard pass. There’s only so many crowded social events I can handle in one week let alone one day.” Luke rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. It was always weird to hint at the fact that he couldn’t handle most social situations. The media made it seem like it was a quirky introvert thing but it’s really not like. Even now Luke could feel an ache inside his chest and it flared up hotly and his mind was filling itself up with white noise to drown out the rest of the world. Sometimes it hurts to be around so many people for so long. Luke knew that there was nothing wrong with him he just wished he didn’t have to be like this all the time. He knows he should jump at this opportunity to make a new friend (especially one as cute as Ashton). He should get out of his dorm tonight because he was in college and he didn’t have anyone to answer to but himself. Yet, that little voice in his head that always had a tight grip on him (like a dog with a short leash). That voice spoke to him now whispering  _He’s just being polite. He needs to get more names on the sign-up sheet. He doesn’t care if you go or not._   

     Luke liked bad horror movies. He liked to make fun of them. He liked cute boys with pretty eyes and even prettier smiles. He just didn’t want to spend a night in a room full of strangers. This cute boy in front of him was a stranger too Luke didn’t even know his name. 

     “Oh no, it's cool! We have all sorts of events going on this semester so don’t sweat it. Besides we could watch the movies just the two of us- make lame jokes together. I already think you’re pretty funny. I’m Ashton by the way- probably should’ve introduced myself first.” Ashton smiled again so easily. As if what he just said couldn’t possibly make Luke’s little heart plummet to the ground and then soar high above the clouds. It just wasn’t fair. 

     It sounded like he kind of asked Luke out on a date- but it couldn’t be a date. Who asks someone out that easily? It had been way too casual and Ashton didn’t look nervous. Just friendly. 

     Maybe Luke could use another friend.  

     “I’m Luke...and yeah sure- I'll take you up on that...watching bad horror movies together with a side of lame jokes,” Luke said with a tentative smile. He ignored the way his face felt so hot. He blamed it on the sun even though it was hidden behind thick clouds. Ashton’s smile grew. 

     “Perfect. Here gimmie your phone or be old school and put your email down here.” Ashton tapped down on the clipboard on the table with the sign-up sheet and write down your email. Could use a new e-pal.” He laughed and Luke chuckled with him as he gave him his phone. Ashton added his number and handed the phone back to the blond. 

     “Great, I’ll text you details tomorrow.” Ashton gave him a small wave and Luke began to move away from the booth. His cherry scones long forgotten. 

     “Okay, cool um...nice to meet you I guess,”  he said softly and he meant it.  

     “Likewise, handsome” Ashton sent him one last smile before Luke turned away to hide his red face. Now nothing stood in his way to the café beside this small urge to linger by the fraternity house booth. 

 

     Luke didn’t have a crush on Ashton. Okay, maybe he was still attracted to him after a day of pretending like whatever happened at the booth hadn’t actually happened. Then he decided that he just wanted a friend. He didn’t need to make things complicated and develop a crush on Ashton. Which he did often towards any attractive male that was ever nice to him (including his high school biology TA but no need to get into that). Luke reminds himself of all of this while on his way to Ashton’s room (Luke reminded himself of this even years later when they share drunken kisses once, twice and trice).  

     Luke wasn’t even sure if it was a date or not. It could just be Netflix and chill but really, they were just going to chill.  

     The text had come during his British 1800s Literature lecture. He read it discreetly from between his books. 

**Ashton:**  

     Hey! Hope you’re free tonight. I got some good 

     Movies ready for us. I was thinking maybe you  

     Can come by after class and we can grab something  

     To eat first.   **Read: 1:23**  

 **Ashton:**  

     Also this is Ashton 

     The guy from the booth from yesterday. 

 

     It had been so hard for Luke not to laugh out loud over the onslaught of messages he received in the last hour. Ashton was cute (he would never say that to him now at not if he was sober). He quickly texted back. 

 

 **Luke:**  

     Sorry don’t recall an Ashton. I remember this weirdo 

     Who nearly cost me my knees for cat calling me  

     On my way to the café. 

     It wasn’t long before his phone went off again. 

 **Ashton:**  Ha-Ha you’re still funny like I remembered. 

     So, my place tonight? You know where Theta is? 

     My room is on the second floor all the way 

     Down to your right. Can’t miss it. 

 **Luke:**  Yeah. Be there after class.  **Read: 1:36**  

 

     This is where Ashton fucked up and proceeded to change Luke’s entire life for better or for worst. 

 

     Directions are an interesting thing. It’s very easy to get lost in new places. It was even easier with someone as spacy and forgetful as Luke. Though he thought he had received simple enough directions from Ashton so that wouldn’t have been a problem. Of course, if you receive the wrong directions it doesn’t matter if you tend to get lost or not. You’re going to end up in the wrong place. 

     After Luke’s lecture, he went and dropped off his things in his dorm. He had also freshened up because he had rolled out of bed around 10 AM for his classes and wore the same sweatpants he had fallen asleep in. Luke changed into a pair of black skinny jeans and pulled on one of his favorite blue flannels. He didn’t want to seem like he was trying too hard because this was obviously not a date. This was just two new friends hanging out. 

     The way to Theta house was uneventful besides the fact with every step Luke took it felt like his heart rate increased by at least ten beats per minute. He had never met someone like this. It felt surreal in his head as he repeated what had happened yesterday afternoon again and again. Maybe, it’d been too perfect and Ashton didn’t really want to hang out. Maybe this is some cruel joke being played on him because he’s a dumb first year.  _What if-_  

     That was a nasty spiral of thoughts that Luke barely caught himself from falling into. If he fell, he’d run all the way back to his room and maybe never speak to Ashton again. He sucked in a breath and reminded himself that things would be okay. If he didn’t like how tonight went then he could leave and he didn’t have come back ever again. 

     Besides almost having a breakdown Luke made it to Ashton’s frat house in one piece (mostly). The door had been left open which Luke was both grateful for (he didn’t have to deal with any awkward introductions or explanations why he was there) and concerned because anyone could just walk inside and that was weird. In dorm buildings, you at least had to use your ID and the doors usually would shut on you if you weren’t quick enough.  

     Luke referred back to the text message and took the first staircase he found in front of the door he came through. After two flights of stairs, he was on the second floor. The blond looked from one end of the hall and onto the other one. He had hoped to catch Ashton in the hallway or something but his luck hadn’t run that deep. 

     All the way down he goes and takes a right. There a door open and Luke assumes that Ashton had left it open for him. He takes a step inside and looks around. The room is bigger than the ones in the dorm building. There are more windows and light pours into the room giving it a soft afternoon glow. The walls are bare white and there is a bed propped against the wall to his left. It’s left unmade. Luke isn’t bothered by that because he can’t even remember the last time, he made his own bed. There isn’t much in the room and for some reason, it feels odd. Luke would think that someone as friendly as Ashton would have a more decorated room. A room that felt like it was more lived in this. Luke walks around the room slowly the silence is stifling because he feels as if he has to be extra quiet. 

     Then a door opens and the sound of bare feet padding across wooden floorboards makes Luke’s soul jumps three feet into the air. He turns and sees a boy. The boy moves across the room like it’s his own. Well, Luke can only imagine it was his because he was dressed only in a blue towel.  Does he not know that there someone else in the room? That the door is wide open? The towel hung dangerously low from the boy’s hips and Luke wished he could tear his eyes away. But. 

     But he’s beautiful and Luke can’t (won’t) look away. Their eyes meet through the mirror on the dresser where he pulls out a shirt. Luke’s heart does a full stop and he can’t even attempt to find his breath. He locked onto this beautiful stranger's face. There’s this pleasant smile to his face that almost looks like a secret. 

     Luke is gone. 

 _The way the sun catches his skin is unbelievable. I’m convinced that he was born from the sun and gifted to the world. He has the sweetest face too so warm and soft. As if he had never outgrown his baby fat around his face._ _H_ _e smiles with his whole face and I_ _’d_ _love to count all the dimples on his cheeks. I could kiss them all. His face is boyish and soft but the rest of him is all man._ _His arms make my mouth water. His biceps are so huge and one arm is nearly covered in different tattoos. There more tattoos on his chest and gives this allure that he more than just sweet smiles and chubby cheeks. I just want him to wrap them around me and hold me_ _forever. I think I’d feel safe in his arms. Always_ _._  

     Then he turns towards him and with a smile asks “Are you here for Roy?” Luke doesn’t know how to respond. The gorgeous boy is pulling a t-shirt over his head and it clings to his skin that’s still wet.  _Who the hell is Roy?_  Luke wants to ask but just shakes his head numbly. The handsome man shimmies his way into a pair of tight jeans gives him a funny look before chuckling. 

     “Then what are you doing in his room? Lost are ya? Wish I could help but I only know my way around this room.” he breezes through the room and through Luke. He’s stuffing his feet into a pair of boots by the bed and grabs a phone on the sheets. He looks up at Luke again and there’s that smile on his lips again, he gives a minuscule wave before he turns around. 

     “Well if you see Roy around tell ‘m he still owes me for last night.” He walks out the door without another word or look to Luke. Calum’s footsteps matched the beat of Luke’s heart that pounded over every other noise inside his head. 

     That’s it. He’s gone just like that. 

     Yet Luke feels as though at that moment, the moment that he’d walk off with a piece of his heart.  

     Luke had always been a hopeless romantic maybe even a fatal romantic. It didn’t stop him from thinking about Calum at least once every day after that afternoon for two years. What plagued him more than dimpled smiles and shining brown eyes were the  _What Ifs_. What if he had said more? What if he had followed him out and asked him his name or anything? What if he told him his own name?  _What if_ - 

     Eventually, Ashton had found him in the hallway. He had laughed over the mistake and dragged him back to his room which was actually to the left of the staircase. Luke had had fun that night but the handsome stranger lingered in each of his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed when Ashton tried to hold his hand in the middle of the original Friday the 13th movie.  

     Later on, in the year they would realize that we were better as friends than anything more. Two weeks after the movie date Luke had saw Calum in the café. Just as he had ordered his cherry scones one of the baristas had called out “Calum! Come to get your coffee man!” and he saw him. He had a beanie over his head and wore that sweet smile on his lush lips. Luke stared at him even after he finished paying for his order. 

 _Calum_. 

     He stored that name with the number of dimples he remembered Calum had and the different tattoos he saw spread across bronzed skin.  

     Luke wished he would’ve said something but just as fast as he appeared again, he was gone. Again.  

     Calum took another piece of his heart with him in exchange for his name. Luke knew it as he felt a new ache in his chest.  

     It was like the burning ache in his chest whenever he felt like there were too many voices and bodies. Too many eyes on him. It was warm and hungry. Even after he finished his favorite cherry scones the ache was still there and he knew. He knew it’d always be hungry. 

 

* * *

 

     The midst of rocking bodies and pounding music two boys are entangled in their own world for the night. Calum feels the heat of hard and cheap liquor cruise through his veins. It was enough to guide him to the boy he holds against the wall. It was enough to sweet talk him into pressing his hips to the blond and whisper into his ear like it was something he did all the time. 

     Calum has him by the hair. His rough tanned fingers are tangled in silky golden curls and he pulls on them because he can’t get enough of the sounds that come out of the boy with his tongue in his mouth. 

     “Pretty thing,” Calum groans into the blonde's lips and he murmurs something like  _want,_   _more_  and maybe there’s a _please_ in there but it’s so sweet and soft it's nearly lost in the sound of the party around them. Calum doesn’t want to miss a sound this pretty angel has to give. 

     “How about we go upstairs love-” he’s hardly finished with his brilliant suggestion and the angel he’s got pressed up against the wall squirms and whines eagerly in agreement.  

     Calum laughs, it’s cute. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s made someone this needy for him. It might be a problem because he likes it too much. His dick likes it too much. And he wants more. Calum wants so much more, he wants to destroy this pretty little angel. He wants to leave him with an ache in the shape of his name by the end of the night. 

     There’s a kiss, then two and so many more in between their steps to the stairs and the first vacant room. He pushes the blond against said door and kisses him. Calum kisses him hard. He tastes the pineapple and vodka that lingers on his tongue. He looked so sweet from across the dancefloor and tastes even better. Calum loves it. 

     Hands are everywhere. Calum’s hands on the angel’s luscious ass. His fingers dig into the soft flesh through the leather pants and he can’t help the way those noises make him dig harder. He just wants to squeeze and squeeze because it feels so good. The golden-haired angel grips the edge of his shirt. 

     “What do you want angel?” Calum whispers and presses light kisses to his jawline. He likes the faint stumble he feels there, likes the way it scratches so subtly against his mouth. It makes it all so real. 

     The boy gulps air like a fish out of water. As if its toxic and what he really needs is another kiss. Maybe another squeeze. Maybe something more. His dewy blue eyes catch Calum’s the moonlight that pours from the open windows. Then in a wispy tone, he says into a kiss; 

     “Call me Luke” 

 

     Calum presses the heel of his hand to his eye and lets out a groan. He knows last night had been good cause he’s still drunk and it’s a quarter to ten in the morning. Why he’s up this early after a ragger like night is beside him. Maybe it has something to do with his best friend who sits next to him and tries to shove a phone in his face. He had been told there was coffee. He swats the phone away. 

 _Damn liar. Why do I always fall for his_ _shit?_  

     “Michael, how the hell are you up? Didn’t you spend the night watching anime instead of doing your essay for Burg?”  he asks with a sigh and Michael snorts as he zooms in on his phone. Then he smushes it to Calum’s cheek. Something that hasn’t changed over the years is how squishy Calum’s cheeks are. Permeant baby fat Michael calls it. 

     “I’ll have you know I was in the middle of writing my essay in between an overwatch stream when I got sent this. Calum I thought we talked about being messy on Snap Chat-” Calum had ignored the way Michael’s tone got haughty and dad-like. He knew it was just to annoy him. Though “messy on snap chat caught his attention.” 

 _Shit. What did I do this_ _time?_  

     “I didn’t send another mass dick pic, did I? My aunt still has me blocked for that.” he groans at the awful memory form his first year at college. He’d gotten too many Jager bombs and felt risqué in some stranger’s bathroom. Not his proudest moment. Even though Michael insists it wasn’t had dick pic. 

     “No dicks were sent but I’m not sure if this is worst or better.” Michael chuckles and sets the phone down in front of him. Claum sighs once again and grabs it before he decides better. 

     Through the strain of an incoming hangover, he stares at the phone. It’s a screenshot of the snap. He doesn’t recognize the username yet there he is at the center of the picture. The picture is obviously from last night he can only tell because he’s still wearing the same clothes. But he’s not the only one in the picture.  

     His eyes follow the bridge of his own nose that is nestled against another and then he sees his hand. It’s the stark contrast between his bronzed hand the pale cheek he held so tenderly that catches his eyes. His lips on another but his wrist obscure the view even though it’s obvious what’s going on. There are thick long blond curls that hide the face of the boy he’s kissing in the picture. The image brings something to mind from the night before it all got so murky. 

     “Fuck,” Calum mutters because he can’t imagine why anyone would send a picture of him and another boy kissing to everyone on snap chat. 

     “Did you fuck him?” Michael smirks at him as he brings his cup of coffee to his rosy lips. 

     Calum stares at the picture and tries to conjure up anything from last night before the rounds of green tea shots and bourbon.  

     “I don’t know.” 

     “You’re such a slut Cal” Michael cackles. Calum shoots him a look and he wishes he could defend himself but he can’t remember a thing. Maybe he is a slut. Well, he only hopes he’s a good slut. 

 

     “What do you mean you don’t remember last night?” Michael asks as he nurses a cup of coffee. Now, they’ve made some breakfast. Neither of them could go on any longer without food inside them. Calum rests his head in hands and he leans over the counter. He groans into his hands. He can’t count how many times he’s done so in the last hour. 

     “I don’t know Roy was giving out bottles of grey goose like it was his fucking job. Who even sent you that snap? I don’t know them, do I?” Calum grumbles and reaches for his own cup of coffee. He takes a slow slip and feels every nerve in his brain kickstart with the supply of caffeine. He hopes that’ll help his memory wake up too. 

     “Not the original sender no- I got sent a screenshot from Jack,” Michael shrugs and moves onto his waffles and eggs. Calum still can’t feel his stomach and just grimaces over the smell of deep-fried sweetness. He made himself some toast with a light spread of vegemite instead. He tries to think about last night again. It’s like trying to reach into a well with a bucket that has a hole at the bottom of it. The memories are fleeting and the longer he tries to think the faster he comes up empty. 

     “So then why are you on snapchat with this guy? Kissing no less-” Michael lifts his phone up and reveals a screenshot of Calum kissing another boy again. It’s the same picture yet Calum looks at it as if it’s the first time. His eyes try to find anything that’ll remind him of last night. The boy’s face is obscured by his long blond curls and Calum’s hands oh so gingerly cupping his cheek. Calum stares at the picture. He looks at his own hand and for a moment he swears he remembers the way those silky ringlets felt between his fingers. Yet it’s gone as soon as it’s there and he’s left with nothing again. 

 _Who is he_?  

     Why can’t he remember him? How could he forget something like this? 

     “I’m never drinking grey goose again.” he groans (again) and closes his eyes. Even that makes him wince over the growing ache on the side of his head. Michael snorts and shakes his muttering “yeah right” into his food. 

     Calum peered over his hands and looked at the phone again. He stared at the picture. His dark eyes traced over each delicate golden curl that his hands had touched the night before. Suddenly he could taste a fruit cocktail on his tongue and there was something else there too.  

      It came to him suddenly, the taste of pineapple and vodka. The taste resurfaces in his mouth and he’s sure it's not vomit but an echo of last night. It should’ve gone cold and stayed forgotten hours later but he knows what those lips taste like. He remembers that kiss. He remembers the taste of the sweet angel and heat of his mouth. How soft those lips were and subtle bite of stubble on his cheek. Calum remembers it all except for a name. 

     He closed his eyes again and somewhere from the darkness of the well I saw a pair of blue eyes. 

     “Who cares though? I’m sure everyone will forget...it’s not like when you sent a picture of your dick to your grandma-” 

     “I never fucking sent a picture- and I care...I think” Calum mumbles with a frown. His dark brown eyes still on the phone. Thick brows knitted together in frustration and determination. Michael stares at him quietly before asking; 

     “Why? You can’t even remember his name.” 

     “But I remember that kiss...it’s not the kind of kiss you want to forget,” Calum says, and he’s got this faraway look in his eyes. Like he’s transported himself back to last night’s party and he can see himself kissing that boy again. He can feel it. In the darkness of the party, it felt like it had just been the two of them. As if they had stolen that corner of the room and it was just them. It was them and music between their bodies. He remembered how it felt to hold the blond against his body and kiss until they were both lost in each other. He remembered how bad he wanted to kiss him, again and again, all night long. 

 _I want another kiss l_ _ike_ _that._  

     Michael reaches for his phone and slides the picture away in favor of someone’s number. He taps away at the screen silently while Calum sips his coffee and pines loudly. (He sighs again and maybe groans into the cup over his drunken self) 

     “Alright, let’s find him, Cal, let’s find your drunken Cinderella,” Michael announces as he puts his phone back down. Calum turns and stares at him with wide eyes before hesitantly asking; 

     “How would we even start-” 

     “Easy. We ask someone who knows nearly the entire campus.” 

     “Okay, who would that be?” 

     “Ashton Irwin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please let me know your thoughts!


	3. Weekday Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What comes after Saturday? What do you do when the memories aren't enough?   
> What are you willing to do to get what you want? Find your answers at the bottom of this bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know its been ages but I've working on this chapter for so long--originally this chapter was much longer but it felt too long and I just had to finally break it into parts. I was thinking of doing a sequel after the third chapter but now I think I'll just continue the story in one place. I hope its not too confusing--any questions feel free to ask! Also, this form of anxiety is based on my own experience--also TW for unhealthy coping mechanisms. I promise it'll get better!

     It’s kind of silly, all of it really.

     Calum knows it as he lets Michael play detective.

     It’s not supposed to be a game. Yet there is something comical in the way it all has gone down. It doesn’t feel real. More like a poorly written fairy tale. He blames the idea on Michael who keeps calling the boy in the picture “Cinderella”. Calum can’t help but see the parallels between what was happening and the age-old story. He went to a party and met what could be described as the boy of his wet dreams. They hooked up and he knows that they were separated at some point in the night because he remembered coming home alone. The following morning, he was only left with the blurry memories and a mysterious picture of the blond boy. Calum was pretty sure Prince Charming didn’t fuck Cinderella at the ball and then let everyone know by carrier pigeon (or whatever). He didn’t think Disney would appreciate that adaptation.

     “Ashton knows everyone. He’s the one who suggested my math tutor- also the same guy who threw that killer party last month. No one has been able to top it. And I heard he threw it only because he got drunk and just started calling people.” Michael hadn’t stopped talking about this so-called knower of all people on campus ever- Ashton. If Calum didn’t know better he’d think that his best friend had crush on the guy, but he knew Michael wasn’t one for relationships. In some ways he’d been the same about relationships for a while. It wasn’t that he hated them or anything, but he has had very little time for them. In between classes, band and work he could barely squeeze in a spontaneous one-night stand or two. Before Saturday night he hadn’t had sex with someone for weeks.

     For the longest time those sparse nights were just that. A quick hour or so to get out weeks' worth of sexual and emotional frustration yet it was never enough. Calum always came back home alone and feeling like his body was still on the edge of something. Though Saturday night he had been brought to that edge again and again. Each time he fell into the arms of a soft blond boy with the prettiest blue eyes.

     Calum’s fingers drummed the arm of the recliner he was perched in lazily. He tucked his knuckles under his chin and let his mind wander with these lingering thoughts.

     An expanse of milky skin illuminated by the moon comes to him. Everything is so soft and warm. He remembers the way his fingers traced over the subtle edges of the boy’s stomach and dipped under the tight leather pants. He remembered thinking _how someone can have such a pretty happy trail too_ What made it all the prettier was the way the angel under him trembled from his lips to his hips.

_Calum,_ he had said for the first time. The voice low and breathy and so sweet. Like a gentle plea.

     He would never forget how delicious his name tasted in someone else’s mouth.

 

      It’s a chase. And Calum can’t help but wonder if it’s worth it or will be worth it in end. What’ll even happen when he finds his mystery snapchat boy. Will he get to kiss him like it’s a fairy tale movie? Or will he let this all remain in the frayed shadows of life. All they did was hook up at a party. There shouldn’t be anything special about that. It shouldn’t warrant all this effort to find a stranger. Right?

     Calum wonders all of this as he lets the spray of the shower cascade down his back. It’s not long until Calum is once again brought back to night before. The kiss comes back to life on his mouth. The phantom heat travels around his skin as if he could feel the mystery boy pressed against him again. If he loses himself anymore, he can recall the feeling of lips on his skin, slowly moving across inked flesh. He remembered the way the boy’s eyes traced each intricate line of his tattoos and then let his tongue do the same. A slow pool of heat gathers inside Calum as the shower runs over him and he’s gone with the memory of shy pale hands pawing at his torso until they found the courage to hold him by his cock. Now he’s got his fist around his half harden cock and he strokes it lazily to the faint sound in his head of a blond, blue eyed angel singing his name.

     Out of nowhere Calum swears he can smell roses and pineapple cocktails inside his shower. As if the ghost of last night came right by or maybe it’s just all in his head. It’s just so easy for him to jerk himself off to the memory of bouncy yellow curls, pink lips, teary cerulean eyes and a luscious ass. God, how could he forget that ass it was so thick and soft. He remembers the way it felt to his hands around those soft cheeks and to squeeze them tight.

_Calum_ \- the blond boy moaned in his head sweetly. A drawn-out whine that did things to Cal. It brings violent shivers through his spine and he could feel the head of cock sticky with precum. He pumps his fist faster and faster and the harder he strokes himself the more the images came in flashes of white.  His tongue works around the name in his mind that he can’t find the shape to it, but he can taste it. He’s coming- “Fuck,” He grunts as he tips over and everything is so white for a second- coming to the image of an angel on his knees. His beautiful golden face stained with Calum’s cum.

     Calum sucks in labored breaths. His legs tremble as cum drips down his thighs and is quickly washed away. He leans back against the tiled wall and lets the shower clean him up. He closes his eyes and behind his eyelids he sees it. The image of a boy with the saddest and loveliest blue eyes blown out with unhinged desire. He had never seen someone look at him like that. It’d been raw, scary but so fucking hot.

     Should a one-night stand with a stranger be so visceral the day after?

     Calum can’t remember another one-night stand before last night that ever came close to leaving such a lasting imprint on him. It’s not even been 24 hours, yet he feels like he’d never left the blond boy. They’re in an endless loop of kisses, touches and so much more.

     If Calum finds him and he can kiss him again like that. Stare into those moony blue eyes and feel that same feelings he felt last night. Then it’ll be worth it. He just knows it.

 

     After the shower Calum is back in the living room in a pair of worn in grey sweats and flimsy tank top that slips off his shoulders with every movement. He lounges in the dark gray loveseat, stretched out comfortably and for a moment he thinks he could just sleep here. Take a nap after being woken up horrendously early by Michael. Of course, the same culprit comes charging through the apartment from his bedroom screaming;

     “Fuck! Yes, I got the fucking name! Cal! Cal- Calum fucking Hood wake up!” That of course wakes Calum up right away. It also trashes any hopes he had of a nap. He nearly falls off the couch with the awful jolt that takes over his body. His heart slams into his ribcage violently and it only got worst while his best friend stares over him with a manic look in his ever-green eyes.

     “What the fuck Mike,” Calum rasps out with one hand on his chest. The other keeps him from falling off the couch.

     “I’d be nicer to me if I were you because I just found your Cinderella’s name-” Michael’s mouth pulls into a leery smile that would have been charming to anyone who didn’t know better. Calum brings his hand to face and rubs his eyes.

     “Okay, are you going to tell me his name out of the goodness of your heart of demand something like the little goblin I know you are.” he sighs and tries to sit up, but his words had cost him a thwack to the side of his head with one of the cushions. He grunts as he tips over the side and then finally opens his eyes to look back up at Michael. Michael shoves his phone in his face again.

     “You owe me big for this one Cal.” he says but his voice was light and the smirk on his face was amused even though he wouldn’t reveal anything else. Truly if anyone didn’t know what a tease was Calum would point at Michael.

     Calum tries to sit up again and reaches for his best friend’s phone but Michael holds it out of reach. Instead he plops himself onto Calum’s lap and tilts his head. His eyes catch the light of the early afternoon’s sun and Cal would have found it pretty if he also didn’t know better. He sighs.

     “Come on you spent this whole morning playing Sherlock are you really gonna make me work for this? Why do you even care?” Calum’s arm goes around Michael and he pulls him in for a more comfortable cuddle. Sure, he sometimes wants to punch Michael because he could be very annoying but honestly, he loves his best friend. Michael is a safe space. He’s the person that Calum can go to whenever the rest of the world becomes too much. When the days are long, and nights are longer, and he needs someone to hold onto to make sure he doesn’t just drift away like some castaway. The one person he can count on to be there whenever- that is who Michael is and always has been in Calum’s life. He knows that he is a safe space for his best friend too.

     Michael stares at him quietly for a moment and then peers down at his phone. His fingers swipe over the lock screen and it illuminates his face. His skin is so pale it turns almost ghostly under the fluorescent light. Cal waits quietly and even though under it all his body is buzzing. He wants to know the name. He wants to remember it. He wants to be brought back to last night and make it more real.

     “I don’t really care- unless you do. I mean let’s be real for a second here before we take this thing too far. Do you really care if you know his name? I know you said you cared earlier because of the kiss...but are you sure?  Do you...want to see him again?” Michael asks. The honest questions strike Calum. He didn’t expect them even though just an hour ago he’d been wondering the same thing. He thought Michael just thought the entire situation was funny. Yet, the way Michael’s brows are screwed together in contemplation tells him something else. Michael cares. Of course, he did. A smile touches the corner of Cal’s lips and he gives Michael’s side a squeeze.

     “Hey, thanks for worrying...but you don’t have to Mikey. I thought about it...and yeah, I do- I'd like to see him again or just know his name. I don’t know Mike...the more I think about last night the more I remember how good it was and it’s not something you want only once.” Cal’s voice trails off into silence. An honest murmur he couldn’t even keep his head up because he knew it was ridiculous to be hung up on some one-night stand. But even now after his shower he feels-

_I don’t know what I feel. I just want to see him again. Feel what I felt last night again_.

     “Okay then but you have to promise at your wedding you tell everyone I’m the reason you guys are together.” Michael smiles again that goofy grin he pulls whenever he knows he’s being a little shit. Calum rolls his eyes and feigns pushing him off his lap and laughs when he hears Mike yelp. Mike clamps his hands around Cal’s shoulders and shoves at him.

     “Hey! I have the name of your one true love so how about you show some respect.”

     “Oh, will you just tell me his name already?” Cal groans out loud and gives Mike a rather hard poke to his side.

     “Ugh fine- Here I am trying to be suspenseful-” he grumbles as he types in his password to unlock his phone.

     “This isn’t the bachelor.” Cal deadpans.

     “Isn’t it though?” Michael raises a brow at his best friend who stares at him like he’s seconds away from tossing him off his lap.

     “Michael Clifford if you don’t tell me his name I swear-”

     “Fine, fine jeez. His name-” Mike looks down at his phone and is quiet for two seconds too long and Calum makes to snatch the phone again, but Michael is quicker. He holds the phone to his chest and smiles at him like a little devil.

     “Luke, his name is Luke Hemmings.”

     Calum’s brows come together and he swears he can even hear the wheels in his own head turning. But it’s the sound of that name out loud that causes all the gears in his brain to come alive. It’s like a key that’s opens everything inside his head. It filters out the blur of alcohol and everything in between. Behind his eyes he sees it all. He sees the beautiful boy and halo of golden curls. The bluest eyes and rosiest lips. He remembers the feeling of red silk between his fingers, the drag of leather against his palm. The smell of sweat, sweetened alcohol and roses tickles his nose. The sound of a whisper, a desperate plea underneath delicious whimpers and whines.

_“Call me Luke”_

_Luke, Luke, Luke,_

     He remembers the way he called that name out like a duet between the two of them. Where Luke had crooned _Calum_ , and He had rasped out _Luke_ just as he came inside him, all over him, and the bed sheets of a stranger.

     He remembers.

     He remembers all of it.

     He remembers all of him.

_Luke, Luke, Luke_

* * *

 

     Everything feels stagnant. That is what Luke concludes on a Wednesday night days after the party. The party that both changed his life and left it untouched. It was like that one night with Calum had stolen all the light and luster in his life. As if with every kiss and touch they shared in between songs he couldn’t even remember Luke’s world became grayer. It’s cruel. It’s so cruel how a stranger, a beautiful stranger could hold so much power over another person. Take so much with just a smile, a kiss, a night.

     Luke wonders if he had been robbed or did, he willingly pay the price for his sick infatuation. The maddening desire to have someone he knew he could never have- _Do I deserve this?_

_Do I deserve to feel this awful tribulation of emotions that are rooted in fantasy? Why does my mind and heart enjoy to wage war against each other? Why do they allow me to be the only one who bleeds?_

_Yes, yes, yes, you deserve it._

     The voice inside his head tells him that he does but that asshole has a taste for blood. His blood. Though when everything else in the world hurts, Luke always came back to the hole in his chest that spells _Calum_ , and he loses himself in the fantasy.

     Because it hurts less to pretend and be self-aware that it’s all fake then fall into a pack of lies blindly.

     Luke wishes he had known this a year ago. It’s okay now because he has this. He has Saturday night. Those memories. The space in his heart that is reserved for all of that is Calum. _All of that is mine_.

     While everything feels different nothing has changed. After Saturday night he had found Ashton who brought him back to his room in his frat house that was down the road. Neither of them could have managed the walk back to Luke’s place. Luke could hardly walk. And it wasn’t just because he did another shot of Henny after he stumbled out of the upstairs bedroom. He hadn’t stayed.

     It’d been strange so suddenly his wildest dreams had come true in best way imaginable. Calum had sought him out on the dance floor. Calum had held him by the hips and danced with him as he whispered sweet nothings into his ears. They had kissed. They had done more than kissing. Even now days later he could feel the ghost heat of Calum’s body pressed against his own. Those luscious pair of lips mapping out every freckle that dotted over Luke’s body. It’d been so good- nearly perfect and it was a dark fear inside of him that made him run.

     What if he woke up in a stranger’s bed the next morning and it’d been empty? Luke wasn’t sure if his heart could handle that. He felt he had stolen enough- or as if he been granted enough- if he asked for more then the universe would surely spit at him. The universe only ever gave out in grains of salt and on Saturday night Luke was granted the whole ocean.

     What if he woke up and learned that Calum wasn’t the perfect boy he painted into the walls of the hole in his heart? He knew that it was the truth, but he didn’t want to know it. He didn’t want to experience it. Because if he couldn’t have that safe space anymore, he didn’t know what he would have left to get him by on those really hard days. Yes, he knew it was absolutely insane to not want to actually have the real Calum in his life. But if he wanted reality over fantasy then he would’ve spoken to the boy of his dream's years ago.

     Nothing had changed after the night. They hadn’t exchanged numbers or even tried to speak after Calum came so deep and hard inside Luke. He remembers those absolute blissed out moments as he let himself get carried away by his own high. Everything glowed around him with a nimbus and he saw Calum peer down at him before his head fell into Luke’s shoulder. He remembers the way Calum had whimpered _Luke_ into his skin and kissed him as he trembled and came. He swore he nearly came twice.

     Yet, days later those memories lingered inside of Luke, but he made no attempts to get into contact with Calum. No matter how many nights that followed he spent in bed with his hand around his cock. He can still remember the taste of bourbon and smoke on his tongue.

     Wednesday night, everything should have gone cold and dead since Saturday night yet it all still so fresh in Luke’s mind. The taste of Calum’s mouth lingers in Luke’s no matter how many times he brushes his teeth. A naïve part of him hoped that maybe after the party the ache inside him would have finally been satisfied.  That the hunger would end its ghostly wails within him. They only became louder. After a taste he wanted his cake and to eat it too.

      _Greedy_. He wanted more so much more.

     Yet, he knew that was just a pipe dream. The universe would come for payment after its generosity. It would demand and collect in chunks of his heart.

     He wanted Calum again and again. Every night since the party he buried himself under his soft cotton sheets and in the dark he’d touch himself. He’d imagine it was Calum’s hand wrapped around his cock, and he could almost feel the warmth of his dream boy’s rough palm against his own heat. The way Calum’s calloused hands caressed his pale skin. Slowly. Tenderly. As if they had forever. As if Calum wanted to remember how he felt.

     Remember him.

     Luke knows he was detrimentally naïve.

     A fatal romantic.

     Yet, it didn’t stop his mind not when he was stroking himself to the image of Calum’s head thrown back and the echo of his voice- _Luke_ , he groaned into his ear when he had pushed in the head of his cock inside of him. 

     Calum’s name was Luke’s midnight song.

     Two years later Luke should be over it. Two years later the hole in his heart still spells;

       _C a l u m._

~*~

     The next day comes and nothing has changed. Luke hates that there is a small part of him still hoping for something for anything. The rest of him knows better. Yet, it is entirely human to have some ounce of hope in almost any situation. It breeds itself within the confines of the heart and refuses to die even when it’s told things are hopeless.

     Luke catches himself looking around for him more than usual. Before Saturday night Luke would walk around campus with the tiniest hope that he’d bump into Calum. Well, not just bump into him he wanted the whole Rom-Com meet cute moment that would lead to their evitable love story. The rational side of his brain ridiculed his deluded fantasies. But that’s all they were- fantasies.

     Now, though the other side of his brain seemed half convinced that it could happen. Maybe if he just saw him on the quad or café- If he remembered- Remembered how their kisses tasted of bourbon, pineapple and something else so good. That their bodies had fit together so perfectly even for just for a night. Maybe, maybe they could have that again.

     After class Luke is on his way to the café like usual- he always craves cherry scones after a particularly hard day. It hadn’t been awful, but it felt heavy and long. Even the clouds above him seem to droop over the skyline and lethargically release droplets of rain every now and then. There was just a feeling in the pit of his stomach that stretched to his chest. A tight feeling that became tighter with every breath and step. After his composition class he had begun to feel light headed and his hands were shaking by his side. Some days were easier than others but today the noise around him was amplified within his own head. It comes together like one roar and Luke staggers with no direction in mind but away. Away from the noise and everything else.

     “Mikey dude-!“A laugh crosses over the expanse of the quad to Luke’s ears. It wasn’t that loud, but his mind snatched it from the air and turns it all the way up. He knows that laugh.

     It shouldn’t surprise him. Part of him had wanted this for days since Saturday night and weeks, months, years since that first afternoon. He sees him. Luke sees Calum by the staircase of the library. Luke was across the Quad closer to the cafeteria and luckily a couple of students milled between them. Calum couldn’t see him (he hoped). Calum has on a green hoodie that suits him incredibly well. His thick dark curls were messy like always but in the perfect “just rolled out of bed” kind of way. Calum’s mouth is pulled into a grin and he has an arm loosely around the shoulder of a boy with long blond hair and glasses. Luke feels his heart tighten terribly so. It wasn’t the first time he saw Calum with this boy, but it always hurt to see him beside Calum. After Saturday it just hurts a little more because he wants to be that blond boy. He wants to close to Calum not just a blurry memory from a forgotten night.

     It shouldn’t affect him so much but Luke stumbles away and makes his way under the glass bridge that connects the cafeteria with the student union. There he sucks in a breath and tries to count each one afterwards. He already had been feeling terrible but now he knew he wasn’t gonna get through the rest of the day.

     There is a misconception that someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks should get used to it eventually. It just doesn’t work that way. At least not for Luke. He can catch the signs, call out the symptoms and it can go down the same way it did when he was about thirteen and experienced it for the first time- yet it would still feel like that first time somedays. Somedays it’s a quiet rush of noise inside him like a streamline of bees moving through his veins. Other days it feels like the whole world is on the highest volume and his throat is being tied together by a boa constrictor. It’s never quite the same but he knows it- himself well enough to see it coming today.

     Luke pulls his phone out and sends a text message with trembling fingers to his best friend Ashton, it simply reads _“I need you tonight. Can I come over please?”_ He loves how it only takes a moment for his best friend to answer him. _“Should I grab something on the way home?”_ It’s funny how Ashton doesn’t even give a definitive “Yes” he just asks if Luke needs anything tonight. Because of course Luke can come over- he's sure that Ashton would let him stay at his place forever if he asked. But even as selfish as Luke may be when it comes to his best friend (and he hates that about himself) he’d never do that to him.

     One day he knows he’ll have to let Ashton go. He’s going to have stand against the world alone one day, but that day isn’t today. _“The usual”_ Luke replies before he tries to steel his bones and force his legs to walk in the direction of Ashton’s frat house. He knew the path well enough to do it with his eyes closed. He’d make it.

 

     About fifteen minutes later Luke is in Ashton’s room and he drops his book bag on the ground. There is no one inside but Ash had given him a key to his room a long time ago. Luke’s nerves tremble but with every breath he takes he feels his tense muscles melt away. Maybe it’s the familiar scent of his best friend that reminds him he’s safe here. The smell of sage and teakwood it’s a little musky but in a clean way. Luke kicks off his boots and wastes little time to drop himself onto Ash’s bed. He lets out a soft groan as he sinks into the soft worn in black cotton sheets.

     It’s easy for Luke to let himself slip into the days and weeks he spent in this bed because everything outside of it was too scary and painful to touch or deal with. Yet, his mind only hovers over the memories and he listens to the fading white noise inside himself. In the silence of Ash’s room, it no longer feels like bees inside him more like the static of a radio waiting to find the right station.

     Sometimes Ash would play old songs that they both liked when they were in high school. He’d dance around the room like a fool just, so it’d bring a smile to Luke’s face. It did. It always did. When he began to feel better- more himself he’d join Ash in his silly dances. Those are some of Luke’s favorite days.

     A clicking noise cuts away at the comfortable silence but Luke doesn’t lift his head because he knows who it is.

     “So, I picked up the pineapple juice. I still have some vodka from the mid-terms because that was a shit show for the both of us.” Ashton’s voice doesn’t slice away at the silence. No, his bright voice always was welcomed. It wasn’t loud either just light- a feeling Luke craved under the weight of his own mind. He grunted into the pillows.

     “Lovely, I also ordered a pizza should be here soon.” he says as he moves around the room. Even his footsteps are light even though his feet are huge (something Luke loves to tease him about). It’s like he doesn’t want to disturb Luke and whatever state me might be in. Luke turns over in the bed, so he can watch his best friend. His savior.

     “How was your day?” Luke croaks and he hates it. He hates when he can’t control his voice and it’s all there for someone to hear. But Ash already knows it- he doesn’t have to hear it or even really look at him to know.

     “Not bad. Had a talk with my advisor about my internship for next semester and then my seminar which was pretty dry.” Ashton answers casually. Luke hums a reply and waits a single beat for Ash to ask him about his day. He doesn’t. Relief comes over him like a cool breeze he wriggles around the bed before sitting up. Luke sits crossed legged on the bed. His shirt- really, it’s a crop top with loveliest scheme of fall colors (mustard, a deep wine red and black) rides up and his back is exposed. A few years ago, he’d blanch over this but he’s not afraid to show skin anymore. Especially around Ashton who knows his body so well.

     “C’mere” he says softly to Ashton who crosses the room with a glass in hand.

 

* * *

 

     Ashton’s hazel eyes catch him and stare. The only light on is the lamp beside the bed and its gentle orange glow touches Luke in a heavenly way. It highlights his hair and makes it shine a bright yellow while his skin looks warm. It makes his blue eyes look like two clear lagoons that Ashton would willingly dive into any day. He knows he shouldn’t because those eyes will drown him.

     “Needy as always,” Ash murmurs with a lazy grin. He holds out the glass of pineapple juice, vodka and ice to Luke. The blond boy takes it and begins to drink. He takes several big gulps consecutively nearly downing half of it. Ash reaches for the glass and takes it away with a firm hand. He ignores Luke’s whines and sets the glass down on the nightstand.

     “That bad?” Ashton asks before he sits down on the bed beside his best friend. Luke scoots in closer and lets his head drop onto Ashton’s lap. Automatically Ashton’s fingers find their way to Luke’s curls and he combs through them tenderly. He doesn't remember when that became a habit just that now it feels natural to let his fingers get lost in silky yellow curls. Sometimes Ash thinks it helps him calm down more than it helps his best friend. Luke turns so his face is hidden against Ashton’s stomach.

     “Was fine...just inside me- inside me I can never control it you know? I can wake up just fine, but it’ll come to me. It’ll come slowly...creeping inside my bones and the noise around me starts to turn up in my own head and I know-” Luke mumbles and it’s not the first time he’s tried to explain why he gets like this. Ash listens to him quietly as he plays with Luke’s hair because he knows he likes it. Luke’s words trail off because he’s told Ash so many times the same thing, but it never changes.

     “I know Luke...so nothing triggered it today?” he asks and for a second Luke is silent but his fingers fidget around he can feel them brush against his thigh. Luke sits up to grab the glass and downs the rest of the sweetened alcohol. Ash watches him and sighs inwardly. He knows this isn’t healthy. He’s told Luke this isn’t healthy for him. He’s told Luke there are better ways. He’s promised to go to the campus counseling center with him. Luke said he wasn’t ready. He was getting better, but Ashton knows it’s not true. Yet, he’d rather let Luke get tipsy in his room under his supervision then let him be alone in his room with those dark thoughts in his head. At least here he can remind him that he’s more than those thoughts. Here he can hold him close and remind him that the voice inside his head is a liar.

     Luke doesn’t answer him he sits up and reaches for the glass. He has it in his hand and gulps down the rest of the sugary alcohol before Ashton can stop him. He’s not sure if he should. Yet.

     The glass is emptied, and Luke looks at him with those sad eyes of his. The size of the moon and the color of a clear summer day. Ash is a sucker for those eyes and he’s up on his feet mixing juice and vodka in two glasses this time. One for the sad boy in his bed and one for himself because he knows he’s going to need it.

     “Don’t drink it so quick this time,” he chides as he brings the two glasses to the bed. He sips at one and lets the gentle burn of the alcohol distract him from the way Luke falls into him as soon as he’s in bed. Luke curls up to his side as he steals sips from Ash’s glass. Its not long before that glass is set on the nightstand. Empty. Again.

     Ashton remembers the first day he met Luke. A nervous boy with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen but it’d been his pretty smile that had hooked him. Sure, he had “catcalled” out all the students walking by his stand but when Luke had smiled at him shyly, he knew he couldn’t let go of him too easily. Ash remembers the first time he saw Luke drunk. It was the first time he saw the younger boy drink too. Luke drank like it was the end of the world. It always seems like that when Luke drinks. As if the alcohol will cleanse away whatever troubles he has but they both know that’s not true.

     A few years later and Luke hasn’t changed. He’s still the nervous boy with the electric blue eyes and pretty smile. But he was more than that. He was more than his anxiety. Ashton never wanted to erase that part of him. No, he wouldn’t take parts of Luke that made him Luke. He just didn’t want Luke or anyone to forget the other million parts of him.

     Like now, the cuddly boy wrapped up in Ash’s arm. Luke is a sweet boy who only wants to be loved. He craves attention almost all the time, but it was harmless. He was like a gentle kitten in Ash’s eyes.

     Ashton pulled Luke closer to him. Now they’ve both finished the bottles of pineapple juice and vodka. There is a steady warmth building inside of Ashton and he can’t tell if its because of the alcohol or the way Luke’s body is pressed against him. Ashton knew he fucked up again.

     Luke has been quiet for awhile but then came the soft whimpers that he must think are muffled by Ash’s shirt. Ash hears them. He hears all them.

     “Luke,” Ash whispers as he dips his head down and his brushes against fair curls. The smell of rose water tickles him. “Lukey” he tries again, and Luke shudders in his arms. He gasps out breath and inhales all of Ashton.

     “Please, Luke tell me what’s wrong.” Ashton begs. His voice tries to remain steady, but nothing broke his heart quite like the tears of an angel.

     Luke pulled away from him. It hurt Ashton to be away from his best friend right now even for just a moment or the slightest distance. As if he didn’t hold him then Ash would be the one to be crying because he had to hold Luke. He had to make sure Luke wouldn’t drift away from him in the darkness of his own mind. Luke sat up so quickly though as if some unknown force had possessed him.

 

* * *

 

     Luke doesn’t like to think about last year. He knows that he shouldn’t just shut that period out of his life no matter how dark it got. He knows and acknowledges that it happened. Yet, when he’s at the bottom of bottle and laying in Ashton’s bed he knows he’s never too far from those awful times.

     He hates it. He hates how easily he falls every single time. How his body and mind lose themselves and its only seven o’clock on a Thursday night and he’s so drunk. He should’ve had something to eat before drinking so quickly. Now the world is tilted on its side and his body is so warm even after he throws the sheets off his body.

_Oh, when did I take off my shirt?_ He wonders as the faint whisper of a breeze tickles his bare torso. It doesn’t matter because now he sees it. The mark right above his belly button that hadn’t quite faded yet. Calum had bitten and kissed that spot until Luke squirmed and begged for mercy because he was so ticklish there. Yet, there had something about that tender spot that the boy of his dreams liked. He feels a trace of Calum’s mouth there now under the heat of vodka and Ashton’s sheets. It seems to burn up the longer the he thought about it. About him.

      Its always him. It always comes back to the boy in Luke’s head. The prince of the halls in his heart. Its always Calum’s image that conjures surges of emotions he can’t even name right now because alcohol slogs through his system.

_Why? Why is it always him_ —and now after Saturday night its all he can think about.

_Calum, Calum, Calum_

     “Why? Why did he have to be good—It’s not fair—Ash it’s not fair because maybe if he’d been bad…horrible…terrible…maybe then I could—” Luke’s voice stumbles the same way his legs would if he tries to get up whenever he’s drunk. He babbles the insistent thoughts that circle his mind.

_Free._ He wanted to say it, but did he want to be free? Truly free from his crush?

     Yet this word remains in the confines of his mind. He doesn’t want to admit just how hooked he’s on Calum out loud. Or to be more honest how hooked he’d been on the idea of the boy. It’s ridiculous he knows it, but the mind is a powerful thing. It holds all the ways to destroy yourself.

     Over the last two years Luke had been able to gather bits and pieces of information together in in his heart. It made a collage of a deep seeded infatuation that only he was privy to for a long time. He knew what he felt wasn’t love. He didn’t know Calum like that he wasn’t that much of a fool.

     But it could be real one day if he ever got the nerve to do more than stare at him from across the café.

     It was the “What ifs” that scared Luke though. Because the chance was too great to take, and he couldn’t blindly let himself get hurt like that. Not again.

     “So good…fuck it was so good…I kissed him Ash, can you believe it?” Luke asks and the shock in his own voice makes him laugh. It was a delirious drunken laugh that found all the wrong things funny. He laughs so brightly too. It bubbles out of him and to anyone else it would have sounded care-free, happy even.

     “I kissed him…I sucked him off at the party and he took me up stairs and we fucked…I fucked Calum Hood…” He’s still laughing as he crudely retells the story of how he spent Saturday night. It sounds ridiculous to his ears and so he laughs and laughs—

     But Luke tastes the salt of tears before he can feel them. They run down his redden cheeks and its too late because Ash has been watching him the entire time. He has that look on his face. Its pinched with a kind of pain that neither of them could describe in their state right now. Luke knows his best friend is trying to hide how much it hurts him to hear him hark about a meaningless fuck.

_I’m awful. I don’t deserve you…_

     “He won’t remember me…he was so drunk, and I was drunk too but I remember…I remember all of it.” Luke’s body crumples back into the bed beside his best friend. As if the truth of his words had stolen his breath from him. As he lays there with his face buried in Ashton’s side, he feels his words pick away at his heart like vultures. Ashton hasn’t said a word.

     He couldn’t see Ash. He didn’t want to stare into that pained expression that neither of them could touch. Or would let themselves touch. Because if they did then they’d have to admit to what it meant between them and let it change them. They didn’t want what they had to change.

     Instead Ash does what he always does, and he takes his best friend into his arms and presses him closer to himself. Even though Luke is taller than Ashton he always seems so much smaller whenever Ash holds him like this. Protective. A shield against the world and anything else that dares to hurt him.

     “Its alright Luke,” he whispers into the crown of curls. He kisses the same spot and Luke shakes in his arms again. A quiet sob comes over him and strums over his chest like some broken tune. He falls to pieces but it’s okay because Ash is there to catch all of them. He’ll piece Luke back together like he always does.

     “I-I’m sorry,” Luke gasps out in between choked breaths and hot tears. He hates that he cries whenever he drinks. He hates that he drinks whenever he’s sad. He knows it’s not right, but the taste of pineapple vodka is sweeter than his tears.

     Luke knows he shouldn’t be like this anymore—he’s gotten so far—so much better. But phantom pains of an unrequited love always wail and moan within the abandoned house which is his heart.

     Maybe Saturday was a mistake—maybe it hadn’t been a gift. Should a gift hurt this much? He wishes he hadn’t met Calum under the guile of Alcohol. He wishes they hadn’t just had sex—he wishes he’d say something to him that night—anything that could’ve spilled over beyond one night—a couple of stolen hours.

     What he wishes more than anything was that he wasn’t Ashton’s bed like this. He knew that was a mistake—but it only ever took homemade mixed drinks and some crying to get them here. Luke knows he shouldn’t do this to Ashton—it’ll only hurt him—hurt them both.

* * *

      Luke doesn’t cry as hard as he used to but even a frown was too painful a price in Ashton’s eyes. It pierces his heart each time a tear falls from those beautiful blue eyes. It’s like a needle digging deeper into the vulnerable flesh of his heart and drawing out blood so to leave him lifeless. He tries to ignore the other pain in his chest. The flare of heated rage that wages war against all his good intentions. Jealousy. It colors over the red in his heart with green. Envy. It seeps within the catacombs of his chest and calls forth legions of rage over so much more than a kiss.

     A kiss. It was all it took to remind him that he will always just be Ashton, the best friend. But they hadn’t just kissed and that’s what makes it so much harder.

     Though he’d take friendship over nothing because beyond his own feelings he did care for Luke. If it meant that he would be the one hold him as he cried over broken hearts, then so be it.

     He wanted Luke to be happy.

     He would fight for it. He’d fight for a smile on his angel’s face.

     “It’ll be okay. I promise it’ll be okay Luke.”

 

      An Hour after Luke had cried himself out and fallen into listless sleep Ashton finds himself far too deep in a conversation that he still isn’t sure is a good idea.

      **_Ashton:_**

_Are you sure he wants to meet Luke?_

_This isn’t some of kind of sick joke, right?_

     Ashton’s stomach twists into more knots than he can count—he doesn’t want to be the reason why Luke gets hurt again—but he knows he holds the key to Luke’s happiness—why he hasn’t used it sooner? He knows about the picture. He had saved it after Michael sent it to him Sunday morning. But he hadn’t shown it to Luke. If he were being honest it out of selfishness—He didn’t want to give his best friend away to the one person, he was sure he could lose him to.

      ** _Michael (Bio):_**

_Yes. I’m sure._

_Don’t worry if I wasn’t sure about this I wouldn’t be bugging you. :P_

_Now lets get Cinderella to his prince charming._

     Ashton feels a looming weight of regret hover over his shoulders.

     This had to be a mistake. How could he trust a boy he vaguely remembered from a biology class he took last year? How was he supposed to trust this Calum boy who had stolen Luke’s heart ages ago only to fuck him one night and forget his name the next?

     There’s only one-way Ashton feels he could be surer about all of this.

  **_Ashton:_**

_Can we talk about this more in person?_

     Ashton waits a couple of minutes. The typing bubble hovered under his message the entire time before finally a new gray bubble read:

  _**Michael (Bio):**_

_Sure. Meet at the café in an hour?_

_**Ashton:**_

_Alright._

     Ashton is still convinced that this had to be his worst idea but if he could stare Michael in the eye—and find no malevolence in his eyes maybe—then maybe he could go through with this.

     “Fuck…” he sighs to himself and turns towards the slumbering boy beside him. Luke’s blond curls were tangled into a ruined halo of curls. His cheeks were still streaked with drying tears, Ashton reaches for his best friend and caresses his damp cheek. They were so warm. So soft against his rough calloused hands. Ashton leans down and kisses Luke’s cheek. Luke stirs under him and for a moment Ashton’s body is tight. All his muscles taught with an incredible tension. Restraint. He wanted to crawl under the covers and hold Luke to him. That’s where Luke is safe. Always. But he knows that its where neither of them belongs no matter what his heart clamors on as it breaks away by the piece.

     He had to go meet Michael at the café.

 

     In a brilliant act of courage and selflessness Ashton finds himself in the middle of the campus’s café with the strangest boy he’d ever met. Not long-ago Ashton had wondered how far a person would go for a friend. Last year proved to himself that he would go to the ends of the earth for a friend—for Luke. The question resurfaces in his mind now as he takes a sip of his black coffee. While he hadn’t gotten drunk earlier, he needs to be clear minded for himself and Luke.

     Last year when the question came up as he held back Luke while he threw up into waste bins and toilets Ashton knew the answer. He could do that. He could hold his best friend and clean up after he deposited his entire stomach (and heart) into a garbage can. He could tuck him in and lick all the wounds the world cut into Luke’s tender flesh. Ashton could piece together a broken boy and cut his own fingers in the process if it meant that Luke would be okay the next day. If it meant he’d see him smile again—then yes, he’d do it all. He’d do it again and again. But was he willing now to orchestrate his own heartbreak?

     Ashton looks at Michael as he takes a bite of pizza. Michael’s fringe falls over his eyes—even though he wore a black beanie his hair is long. It reached just below his jawline and was colored a faded rose gold. Though it was his eyes that keep catching Ashton’s attention. He hadn’t seen Michael this close in a semester when they were both in an intro Bio class. At one point in the semester they had been lab partners and exchanged numbers to keep up with work load. Back then he’d been too preoccupied with his other classes, fraternity events and Luke to really think about him. Months later he can’t help but notice the different shades of green (spring green—a pastel green but also neon green—they were electric) in his eyes and the small flecks of gold that catch the light almost perfectly.

_Wait- That’s not the point of this meeting_

     Michael, who smiles at him with pink lips glossed with pizza grease seems like a nice enough guy. He seems happy right now like he knows what he’s doing is a good thing. Ashton wishes he could be just as sure—just as happy. They’re doing something that could be great for their best friends or horrible. And that scares Ashton. He can’t be the reason why Luke gets his heart broken (again). Ashton feels them the thin shards of glass being pushed in places they don’t belong—heart break sometimes can be a slow and painful process. He had to be sure that whatever they did it was worth it.

     “Okay, so you’re saying your friend—”

     “Calum. Calum Thomas Hood—just about the best human I know has a major crush on your friend.” Michael says casually almost too casually and while they’re kind words Ashton can’t decipher if they’re true or not. How can he so casual about this? Isn’t he worried that Luke might hurt his friend? Ashton knows that that would never happen, but Michael didn’t—didn’t he think about it? Or maybe he’s the only one worrying about this. Everything about Michael is causal—almost lazy but in the same way a cat is when it lounges comfortably under the sun. The way he talks and strings words together—the ever-present grin on his rosy lips shouldn’t bother Ashton but they do. Then there’s that awful twinkle in his eyes—they’re so green—so very green. When he looks into Michael’s eyes, he thinks this is what it must feel like to look out into an open field.

     Ash wishes it was that easy for him. All of this.

     Michael’s eyes linger on Ashton’s tense form and he reaches for his soda taking a loud sip as silence fizzles over them like carbonated bubbles.

     “He’s been pretty hung up on Luke—and Cal isn’t like this. He hasn’t been this obsessed over a long-haired blond dude since he discovered Nickelback.” Michael jokes and Ashton for the first time all day feels his muscles loosen just a bit. He can feel the corner of his mouth tug into what could be a smile.

     “Nickelback?” he allows himself to chuckle and hates the words come out of his mouth next;

     “Luke loves Nickelback. They might just be perfect for each other”

     Because maybe it’s true. Ash feels his blood begin to boil under his skin, but he won’t let himself to come undone over this yet. Because maybe—maybe it’s not true and then he’ll be there for Luke like always. Ready to pick up the pieces even if his own heart in a pile of broken glass right under him.

     “So, you want to do this right? Because you look a little unsure and if you’re not sure then I don’t want to put Cal in a situation where he can be hurt. I can’t do that to my best friend.” Michael says, and his voice is soft but there is this subtle sharpness that would be lost if they hadn’t been looking at each other. Those wide-open green eyes tell Ashton that he would also go to the ends of the earth for his friend and that’s enough for him. Ashton leans back in his chair and lets out a sigh he’d been holding in for ages.

     “I’m sure. I know Luke likes him too—and he’d be happy to see Calum again.” Ashton nodded his head and for the first time allowed himself to sound sure about his words. Even if he can faintly taste blood in his mouth as the words slice through his tongue like knives.

     “So how should we get them together? Cal wants to see him soon but he’s not sure if it makes sense to ask him out on like a date—yet? Because you know they’ve only hooked up at a party but and that might be weird, but he just wants to see him again and talk.” Michael leans forward and rests his cheek against his hand. He pursed his lips into a “thinking” frown.

     Ashton, knower of all people on campus including those who were throwing a party soon had an idea. It was a simple idea and really, he could’ve told Michael over text, but he had to know this was for real first.

     “A friend of mine is throwing a party Friday night—you bring Cal there and I’ll bring Luke. But let’s not introduce them” Ashton said, and Michael now frowns but its confusion that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

     “Isn’t this whole date right now about them meeting? Why wouldn’t we introduce them?” He asks, and Ashton was more than ready to answer his questions.

     “Easy, if it’s meant to be then they’ll find each other again and hit it off if not then- Hey wait did you say _date_?” Ashton’s mind had to reel back and think about all the words that had came out of Michael’s mouth. Michael’s mouth curves into a cat-like grin. Mischief, it read now. Ashton swallows thickly.

     “Don’t look so scared—I was kidding but you’re the one who asked me out.” He laughs, and Ashton coughs as he tried to take a sip of cold coffee.

     “To discuss our friends potentially hooking up again—I hardly call that a date.” Ashton huffs and brings his hand to his hair. His curls were unruly because he’d been in bed with Luke not long ago. Now, he was the one with a frown on his face. Michael’s smile didn’t waver.

     “Well, you mentioned a party and I don’t often go to them, but I’ll go Friday and bring Cal. But you’ll have to be my date because there is no way I’d leave my apartment otherwise.” Michael’s confidence—no balls were quite admirable. Under any other circumstances Ashton may have found it attractive but right now he was ready to his lay his heart down so Luke had a chance at his dream boy. How could he think about someone else?

     Yet, there was something about that smile on Michael’s face—the one that reminded him of a calico cat—it was making it very hard for him to say no.

     Did it matter? All that matter was he got Calum and Luke at the party. After that it was up to universe if anything good or bad happened. If this was what it took to get everyone there well—why the hell not?

     “Well, then I’ll see you Friday. It’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for the Kudos!!! Please Leave a comment with your thoughts <3


	4. A Song in My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight. He's found him. He'll say the words--but will this be their fairytale?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! i've actually updated in a timely manner??? how crazy but i really hope you guys enjoy this chapter!!! things are about to get wild from here on out and i hope you're excited for that. cause i am

                Thursday night just a few miles away. Calum lays under his bed sheets with headphones on but a whole other song plays in his head. One all his own. He can feel the notes strumming themselves within his chest and it sings;

_“Luke, Luke, Luke”_

_The name runs through my mind like a working chorus—and reminds myself I’m not a poet—Not yet. But he feels like a song—One I wanna sing all day and night long._

_“Luke…Luke…Luke”_ He hums to himself _— I sound like a crazy person. I don’t know him but I’m crooning his name like some love-sick idiot. This isn’t love. No, I know better than that._

_“Maybe, Maybe, Maybe”_

_I just miss the heat of his lips on mine. The taste of his tongue in my mouth. The way his fingers took hold of my hair, but his head tipped back, and he sang out;_

_"Calum, Calum. Calum”_

_No one else has done that—taken memories of what should be a forgotten night and imprint them to every corner, cervices and nook of my mind. It shouldn’t be possible, yet everything says;_

_“Luke, Luke, Luke”_

_Maybe, Maybe, maybe this is something._

* * *

 

 

             Friday morning comes so easily like it sneaks up on everyone but it’s a welcomed surprised at least for most. Luke never remembers nights spent in Ashton’s room after pineapple and vodka. Or that’s what he tells himself when he stumbles out of bed and rushes to the bathroom to empty out his stomach the morning after. It should’ve gotten old by now. Yet, as he clings onto the white porcelain and vomits last night’s mixed drinks and pizza, he can’t find in himself to feel more than an ounce of shame. He had a formula to avoid all of this, but he tossed it away last night. It’s like there is this faint pinching in his chest where once a flood of anguish would drown him there is almost nothing now.

_That’s bad._

_I should feel bad—I can’t get use to this again. I was getting better—I am better_

_Right?_

            Luke struggles to pull himself up from the toilet and staggers towards the sink where he washes his mouth out. He finds his toothbrush and works hard to clean away the vile taste in his mouth. He catches his image in the mirror and he’d sigh out loud if he could be bothered to care. His hair was a mess—curls lost their spring and cold sweat matted some of his hair to neck and forehead. His eyes look dull—as there was flitter over them that hid away the light in them. His skin looks pasty under the bathroom light and he just wants a shower.

            Luke tosses his toothbrush back into the holder and then shrugs off the shirt he slept in (it’s Ashton’s shirt) along with the dark blue boxer briefs he magically kept on through the night. Which was a good sign it meant that when he saw Ashton later things would only be as weird as they usually were after nights like yesterday.

            The water is freezing when Luke tumbles in after turning the knob on. He needs the cold water to wake him up. He can’t be a mildly hungover zombie the entire day—he wants to put yesterday behind him like all the other days like it.

            _Today will be better_ he promises himself. It’s funny that even now when Luke has his own apartment, he still has pieces of himself in Ashton’s dorm. His toothbrush had become a regular member of the bathroom cabinet not long after their friendship began. Then came the drawer with his extra clothes when he slept over. Now, he reaches for his favorite body wash that he bought just to have in Ashton’s bathroom. It’s vanilla scented, and it always makes him feel good even after a bad day. The sweet smell tickles his nose as he lathers himself up—Ashton said he likes the smell because its matches Luke.

            God, one day he hopes he could repay Ashton for being such a good friend to him. He knows he doesn’t deserve Ashton as a best friend, but he also wouldn’t ever let him go. Ashton was too important to him. But he knew he had to one day. Though that day was not today.

            Luke finishes his showers and walks out of the small bathroom drying his hair with his towel. Another item of his that made its own home in Ashton’s place. The room is empty because Ash probably had left early to go to work. As he dries himself off, he walks over to the dresser and opens his drawer. He pulls out an old black hoodie and pair of fleece grey sweats. Among those were t-shirts, underwear (which he grabbed a pair of), jeans and a couple of fancy shirts. Most items were things he’d forgotten over months of improv sleepovers that Ash had washed and put away in the drawer. Though after a while Luke no longer accidentally forgot those items—he leaves them there because he knows he can. It just made Ash’s place a little his too and he likes that.

            After getting dressed Luke flops back onto the bed and looks around the room with a glazed sleepy look to his eyes. The walls are white even though he knows Ashton has always wanted to paint them something more interesting. _“What about a dark blue? Or Olive green?”_ He’d ask Luke who would laugh and remind him that one day soon he’d have his own place outside of the frat house. The thought reminds himself how he gotten his own apartment over the summer. After last year he couldn’t possibly have a roommate who wasn’t Ashton—but Ashton was tied to the frat house until graduation. It was better that Luke had his own space. Yet, here he is in Ash’s bed once again. He sighs into the sheets.

            Luke just wants to stay in Ash’s bed and maybe sleep for another few hours. Luke doesn’t have any classes on Friday nor work at the mall. He’d gotten a job at the Forever21 there towards the end of his Sophomore year when he started to do better. Then the motive to move into his own place made him work more—also he hadn’t and still doesn’t want to be sole dependent on Ashton. Work made him feel like an adult even when he was his worst. He can stay here all day if he wants. He knows that Ashton wouldn’t mind either even if Ash is at work today. He remembers just about everything from last night until the first time he fell asleep (cried himself to sleep). At some point of the night he’d waken up to cold pizza and Ash with a bag full of cherry scones. He vaguely wonders when had Ash gone to the student café to get them and if they were any left because his stomach was wailing at him.

            Luke gets up and wanders off to the kitchenette in the room. As an older member of the frat house, Ash got one of the better rooms in the fraternity. It’s more like a suite with its amenities. A kitchenette, single bathroom, and even a lounge area. It was all in one room, but it all came in handy for a couple of guys in their early twenties. At the coffee table Luke finds the bag from last night and the pizza box. There were a few scones left and a couple of slices. Luke bites into the scone and hums in delight—even though they are a bit hard from being left over night—they’re still sweet and that’s all he really wants. He waddles around the suite while eating scone after scone before he thinks to check his phone. Which was weird because normally he always has his phone on him. Luke returns to the bed and searches under the covers for the device and eventually finds it bundled in the sheets. He unlocks it and finds a few messages from his brother Jack, one of his friends from composition class and of course Ashton. He reads Ash’s message one of them as from last night;

            **_Ash:_** _Hey going to the café. Be back in a bit._

            Oh, that must’ve been when he got the scones. Luke smiles a little to himself because he knows he has the greatest best friend anyone could ask for. Ashton didn’t have to get him the scones, but he knows that there a great way to cheer him up after a sad nap. Ashton cares and that was the best thing about him. He cares so much, and Luke loves that about him. It makes someone like Luke—who often feels like no one cares enough—feel good. Luke types away at his phone with a goofy little smile.

            **_Luke:_** _You’re the best <3 Tonight’s pizza is on me. Maybe we can stay in and watch movies too_ _._

            He goes back to munching on scones, but he scurries off back to the kitchenette in search of water. He chugs the first bottle he found easily and just as he finishes it, he feels his phone vibrate in his hand. Luke looks at it and sees its from Ash.

            **_Ash:_** _Actually, tonight we’ve got plans and you can’t say no._

            Luke raises a brow at this. He grabs a second water bottle and walks back to the bed. He plops down before he types back a reply.

            **_Luke:_** _Oh? What exactly are these plans I have no say in?_

_**Ash:**   Andy is throwing a party. I said we’d go._

            Luke rolls his eyes. Andy always throws parties and they aren’t anything special. Why can’t they just stay in? Luke doesn’t have the energy to go to a party and stay there for more than five minutes. Especially after Saturday and last night he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for him to be around more alcohol. He buries himself under Ashton sheets in protest of these plans as if Ash could see him. Luke frowns to himself as he stares at the screen and replies.

            **_Luke:_** _Lame. I want to stay in._

_**Ash:** Too bad. We’re going._

_**Luke:** Give me one good reason._

_**Ash:** Um you owe me basically your life buddy. Also, Calum is gonna be there._

            Luke drops his phone on his chest and a tremor runs through his fingers. The name _Calum_ sends electricity through his veins and paralyzes him. His hand hangs frozen in there where he had held his phone.  He stares at the phone until the light dimmed. He can’t feel his heart beating down on his chest, but he hears it in his head. Yet, the voice in begins to yell over it.

            _What? What the actual fuck? How does he-_

            Luke grabs his phone and quickly types; _What? How do you know?_

            Ash doesn’t reply as quick which is strange, and Luke must remind himself he was probably at work and won’t be out for a few more hours. He desperately wants to talk to him—no interrogate him over whatever sources he had that holds this kind information. And why hadn’t he used them before. It was obvious Ashton knows exactly who Luke’s long lived “secret” crush was. Luke had told him about a few months after the infatuation had been birthed from the deepest depths of his stupid heart. Since then Luke had kept his gushing over Calum to a minimum because he knew it hurt Ashton to hear about it. Last night had been the first time he talked about his crush to his best friend in a long time. He hadn’t missed the pained expression on his face when he spoke of the kiss. The hurt that flickered in those honest hazel eyes when he mentioned the sex. No, he can’t break Ashton like that—Ashton deserves better than himself. Luke wish he saw it too.

            Luke rubs his hand over his face and sighs out loud—his body feels like its on pins and needles. That name was like an injection of adrenaline straight to his veins and he can feel himself shake under the sheets. It always that name;

            _Calum, Calum, Calum_

            His phone vibrates on his chest and he’s hesitant to pick it up. His fingers feel weak as he holds it—as if it could slip right through them again. Luke stares at the new message;

            _Ash: I just do. Go home and get dolled up I’ll pick you up at 8_

            Luke stares at the phone again. He rereads the entire conversation twice. What did any of this mean? Had Ash gone looking for Calum after what happened last night? Was he going to see Calum tonight? Did Calum know? Or was this all by chance? Would he just spend the night starring longingly at Calum from across the dance floor? Maybe he’d get drunk again and have enough courage to talk to him. Luke laughs at his own thoughts.

            Luke’s heart which always seems to hang by the threads—sinks as his thoughts cut away at those old threads. The voices are a chorus of laughter as the silly mold of flesh and scars plummets to Luke’s stomach. Yet, it’s a stubborn thing that climbs its way back home. Always.

            None of that sounded promising—yet Luke finds himself wanting to go. It isn’t even a question Ashton has to ask because they both know the answer. He will go. He can feel it in his chest—that dangerous flutter hope inside him. He wants to see Calum. Hope plucks at the guitar that is his heart. It sings a song as he walks to the door and stuffs his shoes on. He throws his bag over his shoulder and he can hear the song in his heart hit the chorus but he’s out the door and heading to his apartment without looking back.

            It sings;

            _Calum, Calum, Calum_

            And Luke finds himself singing along.

 

* * *

 

            Later that same day Calum’s room is invaded by his roommate.

            Calum had been at his desk working on some Calculus homework that was due online later that night. Just as Calum hits the submit button Michael kicks open his door. The clamor of noise makes Calum jump in his chair and he turns to give the intruder a frazzled look. Calum’s full lips pull into a frown.

            “Why can’t you ever enter a room like a normal person? I’m gonna have heart problems because of you.” Calum sighs as he sets down his headphones. He knows that they’re no longer useful if his best friend is in the room. One time he had kept his headphones in while Michael had tried to talk to him—it ended with Michael holding Calum’s head as he screamed in his ear. Yes, Michael was the greatest best friend. Calum grimaced as he turned the chair around and got up. He walks across his bedroom to his bed. The room was large—he had enough room for a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room along with a desk where his computer and recording equipment was—there was even a flat screen on the wall adjacent to the desk. The walls were an off white and all the furniture was black. On the walls there were some music posters, family pictures and a few school accomplishments his mother and Michael forced him to put on display. And in the corner of the room sat a case for bass that had been put away for the day.

            “Its to keep you on your toes Hood. Besides what were you doing? Looking up porn?”

            “More like turning in my math homework.”

            “Gross. You should’ve gone with porn. Anyway—we need to get ready.” Michael says as he moves over to Calum’s closet. Calum’s eyebrow shot up after he sat down on his bed. The closet was right in front of it.

            “Andy is throwing a party tonight—we’re going.” He says as he opens the closet door. Its oh so casual—as if he hadn’t just said the most un-Michael thing ever. Calum’s lips part in what must’ve been a gasp.

            “What do you mean _we’re_ going to a party? You hate parties.” Calum’s brows come together in a questioning frown. Michael’s too busy to notice though as he pulls out clothes from Calum’s closet. Calum doesn’t understand how he went from doing math homework to Michael trying to pick out an outfit for some party? Sure, he’d known about Andy’s party and had contemplated going to it but every day since Saturday he had spent all his dreams dancing in his head with a blond angel.

            Calum had tried to not think about Luke but yesterday he swears he’d seen him. He was so sure he saw a whirl of familiar yellow curls from the corner of his eye, but the image was gone just he saw it. Then he’d been half convinced he only imagined it—with the way the boy was on his mind it was possible. Luke is everywhere in everything he sees. It’s driving him crazy.

            But what is even crazier is Michael suggesting they go to a party on a Friday night. Michael didn’t hate parties and he’d go to one if it were special—but it took a lot out of Michael’s social anxiety to go to a party and stay for more than hour or two. He’d much rather spend the night in—playing video games or binge watching something new on Netflix. Most of the time Calum would stay in with Michael and make him watch the Great British Bake off but some nights Cal craves a good drink and a fuck. Tonight, though he isn’t sure what he wants.

            “I said what I said—here wear this tonight.” Michael throws over one of his black button ups. The one that does remarkable things for his arms (which were amazing on their own thank you very much). Calum holds the shirt and frowns at his friend again.

            “Why—”

            “Tonight, you’re gonna meet your Cinderella don’t you want to look nice for him?” Michael grins at Calum but the grin breaks away into a laugh because of Cal’s face. It was comical the way Cal’s jaw literally drops and how big his eyes bulge out of their sockets. Even his thick brows are screwed together in even more confusion. Michael giggles at his friend’s silly expression but turns back to the closet. He hides the way the evil satisfied look on his face as he pages through clothes.

           “What are you talking about?” Calum fingers tighten around the shirt which isn’t doing it any favors, but he doesn’t care. His heart feels like its bouncing up and down on a pogo stick inside his chest cavity.

           “Luke? The boy of your wet dreams? Your Cinderella that left you with just a shitty snapchat pic after a great hook up? Yeah, he’s gonna be at the party. Do you not want to see him?” Michael’s voice is all too pleased with himself. Calum hates that he’s hanging off his every one of his words. Michael turns back to Calum, he holds a pair of his best skinny jeans in one hand and his leather jacket in the other. Calum’s mouth is still hanging open—he can feel the loading symbol hover over his head.

           Finally, his head loads up but only with images of Luke that he’s been thinking about for days. The ones he vaguely remembers like when he first saw Luke on the dance floor—under the lights he was a vision of gold and red. Then when he had managed to get closer to Luke, he saw him in technicolor. First the bright pink flush of cheeks, the lights bouncing in azure colored eyes, and his peachy lips wet with sweetened alcohol. All of it he remembers in a rush.

           “Yeah,” he breathes out and drops the shirt onto the bed before he ruins it, “I want to see him again.” He reaches for his phone. Something he hadn’t told Michael about was how deep his sudden infatuation had become. It started when he kept the snap chat picture and then he may have done some social media stalking late into the night. He found Luke’s Instagram and it been a gold mine. He hadn’t followed him or added him on Facebook. He was too afraid of what kind of message that would send. Would he seem desperate? What if Luke didn’t want to see him again? He’d left so quickly after they had sex—what if he hadn’t liked it and so he dipped out as fast as he could? All these questions bring an onslaught of pressure over Calum’s shoulders and he lets out a sigh.

           Calum looks down at his phone for a moment and it’s opened to the snapchat picture. He doesn’t know why he keeps going back to it. He likes to stare it and map out all of Luke’s features that he can see. The first thing he sees are Luke’s long fair curls. Then his nose—it’s so cute and button-like as if it’d been drawn to a perfect little point. Luke’s nose is pressed against Cal’s cheek and he had cupped Luke’s cheek—his entire palm holds the side of his face so nicely. Calum thinks he remembers the heat of Luke’s cheek. Their eyes are closed, and they look like they’re not even thinking about the world around them. It’s all so intimate—he has no pictures like this one with another person.

           Was it so of him strange to keep it?

           He wonders who had taken the picture—he didn’t recognize the username—but there hadn’t been any malicious intent behind it. As far as he could tell. No one else had mentioned the photo. No one cared but himself and that was good he really doesn’t have time for that kind of drama in his life.

           Nope, just time to chase a blond boy and his kisses.

           “Alright, then get ready we’re leaving in like an hour.” Michael announces casually before he chucks the rest of the clothes onto the bed and walks towards the door.

           “How do you even know he’ll be there tonight?” Calum asks his eyes steady on his best friend. As he reaches the doorway Michael turns to Cal and gives him a grin—its secretive—and Calum hates it because he knows it’s a dangerous smile.

           “I have my sources Charming. Get ready I don’t want to be late for my date.”

           “Wait. What?”

 

* * *

 

           The night air is cool. Early October always felt like the perfect weather—at least in New England. The temperature was always just right not too cold or hot. The trees were painted in halcyon hues and scarlet dyes. They were like torches in the crisp autumn nights.

_Around 8:00 Ashton as promised came to his apartment to pick him up. He sauntered into the small one-bedroom apartment like it was his own place. Which was only natural with how Luke acts when he was Ashton’s. His home was Ashton and Ashton’s place is Luke’s home. Luke had just finished spraying his cologne on and was sliding rings on when Ashton came up from behind. He hadn’t seen his best friend since last night._

_“How was your day?” Luke asks as he turns to Ashton with a smile. How do you talk to your best friend after they’re planned for you to meet your long-time crush—while they’re in love with you? Luke’s eyes search Ashton’s for something—anything to tell him not to do this. Because maybe for Ashton he wouldn’t—he couldn’t hurt him more than he already has. Ashton’s lips pull into the easy smile of his and when his eyes meet Luke’s they’re lost the low lighting of the room._

_“Fine. You know how busy it is at the Mall on Fridays-how are you? Did you wake up okay? How are you feeling?” he asks and Luke hates that he still puts him above himself. Luke moves in and wraps his arms around Ashton before giving him a squeeze—he whispers “I’m okay. Thank you.”  Ashton’s arms come around him not even a second later and squeeze him._

_“Come on Lukey lets get you your dream boy.”_

        That’s how they end up at Andy’s house not very long after. They take an uber to the house that’s only a 30-minute walk but neither of them is up for it. The house isn’t quite packed yet when they get there—it’s still early. They stop to talk to Andy for a bit—causal chatting goes in one ear and out the other for Luke because he’s got only one thing on his mind.

        “Why don’t you guys go out back? I’ve got some good shit out there.” Andy says to them.

        Ashton takes his phone out and looks at it before saying “Thanks man we’ll go check it out,” and now they’re making they’re way out the living room to the backyard. There’s a deck out there with a table of booze and assorted snacks. Andy always threw a pretty good party. Ashton moves to the table and starts making them a drink. He grabs the coconut rum and can of pineapple juice.

         “Your favorite,” he says with a grin as he hands the red solo cup to Luke. Luke chuckles and sips at it. Though the sweet alcohol does nothing to calm him down. Its nothing like last time when he was already lost to the music and booze. Now, he feels hyper aware of every movement he makes and every move anyone near him makes. His heart is like a humming bird banging against the cage of his ribs.

_What if I don’t see him tonight and all of this is a waste of time? I could be at home in bed watching Mean Girls or The Notebook—_

_What if I do see him? Then what am I gonna do—?_

        Luke plays with the heart shaped pendant that dangles over the hollow of his collar bone. Suddenly his choker feels too tight and he regrets his entire outfit. He’d chosen one his favorite red silk shirts with black roses illustrated onto the fabric. Though he had the first two buttons undone he pulled his black bomber jacket closer to him every time the wind picked up. He wore simple ripped skinny jeans and a pair of heeled boots. His hair hung loosely in ringlets that flew every which way with the wind.

_Would he remember me like this?_

        “Cal, here Andy made this for you.” Someone says and it’s like Luke has sonar hearing and he lifts his head up searching for the voice—the boy of his dreams.

        It happens so suddenly, and Luke hardly has a minute to pull himself out of his thoughts before he sees him from the other end of the deck. Calum stands out in any crowd with his ebony curls and sun kissed skin. He’s wearing all black and it just does something to Luke—maybe speak to the inner emo in him he doesn’t know. Once again there is a crowd of people between them and Luke is grateful for that. One would think that with this many people moving around you wouldn’t find anyone—Yet it’s not hard to find Calum. Maybe it’s that gravitational pull inside of Luke that always finds him. Even now in this sea of bodies between himself and his dream boy he sees him first. He always does.

        A feeling creeps its way inside of Luke as he steals glimpses of Calum from the other end of the deck. Ashton had dragged him out here with the promise of a decent drink. When he looks at his best friend, he sees him staring in the direction where Calum is. Now, he thinks it’s because Ashton somehow knew Calum was out here.

        The feeling morph itself into something ugly and he knows it because he can see the blond boy from the yesterday with Calum. Again. The voice had come from that blond boy. The feeling twists itself inside angrily it burns hotly under his skin and makes his stomach drop by the inches. A war takes place within himself and there is never a victor in this civil war. Inside his head all he can hear is the voice he knows so well telling him _Run, run, run now before it’s too late. Before you ruin everything._ But his heart ever the fool demands that Luke walk right up to Calum and say something. Anything. _What if he came here because he wanted to see you too?_ The fatal romantic inside him asks. Luke wants to laugh at the ridiculous question. There is no way that could be true.

         Though, no matter how badly Luke’s heart makes itself hurt—he can’t bring himself to move.

_I can’t do it._

        Tonight, they’re the closes they’ve been since Saturday. Only several feet apart. But to Luke Calum is as far away as last Saturday is.

        “You see him, don’t you?” Ashton tears Luke away from his thoughts. Luke looks at his best friend with wide eyes for a second before he nods somberly. Luke sips at his drink nervously—taking large gulps of it as if he can’t get enough. Yet, it all taste like ashes in his mouth right now and not even the warmth of rum reaches his skin. Luke takes a step closer to Ash, but Ash moves so he leans on his hip. Luke notices the purposeful distance and he tries to ignore the way flashes of pain come over his chest.

        “Don’t run from this Lukey. You’ll regret it forever…and you can’t keep fantasizing over this—you gotta try to make it real. For you.” Ash’s voice begins steady like it always has because he’s Luke’s rock. Yet, even stone can crack, and so does Ash’s voice and he know that this hurts. It hurts them both, but Luke can’t keep doing this to him. He feels the faint sting of tears in his eyes but wills them away.

        His mind feels as though it is sinking itself in doubt, but Ash’s words are the life preserver his heart is clinging onto desperately. He breathes in shakily.

        “Okay, but if it goes terribly and I have to run away to a new country will you come with me?” Luke asks with bashful grin. Ashton finds it in himself to laugh.

        “You know it. Now, go get your dream boy.”

 

* * *

     

         He’s here tonight. Calum knows only because Michael assures him. Yet, he also believes it because by some cosmic force inside him right now he knows it. He can feel it in the air. He can smell the pumpkin spice flavored beer and shots. But somewhere in the air he knows he can smell roses too.

_I’m fucking crazy._

        “Don’t worry Cal he’s here dude—just gotta spot ‘em” Michael muses and brings his red solo cup to his lips. He takes a sip of his beer but his elf-like features pinch in mild distaste. Calum chuckles.

        “Where’s your date anyway?” Cal asks besides his own melodrama—he’s beyond curious about this “date” Michael joked at. Michael hasn’t talked about liking someone for ages. He hardly ever had crushes. At least not as many as Cal did back in high school.

        “Don’t worry about me prince charming. Once you’ve gotten your princess I’ll be moving onto my own fun.”

        “What the hell does that mean?”

        Calum asks but when he turns to Michael, he caught sight of a yellow blur. It was vibrant full curls being blown by the pesky wind. Whoever had breezed through had gone by so fast Calum got whiplash.

        Golden Curls—he’s seen them in the corner of his eyes almost daily. He dreamt about the way his fingers ran through them like corn silk. How he’d pulled on them—harder, harder and harder until an angel on his knees moaned out loud. It sends him back to Saturday night for a blitz of a second. But it wasn’t enough. Not when the real thing was right there across the deck.

        “See him?” Michael asks and Calum nods—at least he thinks he does. He looks down at his cup and takes a long swig of it. The burn of the roman coke wakes him from his trance. He wants to look up again—he wants to see Luke. Yet his eyes seem so fascinated in the dark liquid in his plastic cup. It dulled out the sound of his own heart beat—for a moment it was louder than the music blaring through the speakers.

       “Should I go? Talk to him? What if he doesn’t remember or he doesn’t want anything to do with me? Mike what should I do?” Cal asks, and his voice drops low into a whisper. He hates that with every word that comes out his heart squeezes tighter and tighter. Even his breath comes in short.

_This was a terrible idea._

       “Dude, you got this. Just go and talk to him and if it doesn’t work out its fine. I’ll be here for you okay? We’ll go home and get ice cream and watch Great British Bake Off all night long. But you can’t run right now—I know you Cal—I know you’ll regret it.” Michael’s voice goes soft and Calum’s feels like his heart is on elevator, but those words bring him all the way up. He knows Michael is right.

       He’s regretted so much already—giving up on people who could’ve been something. Why should he give up now? Especially when all his muscles, bones, veins are singing _Luke, Luke, Luke_.

       “You’re right.” He sighs and downs the rest of his drink before handing his empty cup to Michael. He takes it with a raised brow before giving Cal a nudge with his shoulder.

       “Wish me luck.” Calum whispers with a shaky grin. Michael smiles at him before giving him a shove.

       “You’ve got this prince charming.”

        Calum laughs and takes a step forward towards the glinting angel. The closer he gets the faster his breath catches and he can’t help but stop midway with a cluster of people between them. He must stop and find his breath but—Luke is a lot prettier than Calum remembered. Which was hard to believe. Days before this party Calum had tried to convince himself that the boy from his fever hot recreations was made by drunken smudged memories. Luke couldn’t be real. Even when he found him online part of him wanted to believe that Luke had been a figment of his horny imagination. Even though his rational brain knew that wasn’t the case. How could someone so beautiful exist? His mind must’ve enchanted those images—fucked with his head. The boy in his head was made of fairy lights, sugary alcohol and golden halos. He couldn’t be real. No one was that beautiful always.

_He can’t be real_

       But he sees Luke—finds him easily in between bland faces and blurred bodies. The divine-like light that glowed around like a beacon called to Calum. He’s turned away from Calum, speaking to a guy shorter than him. There was a smile on Luke’s face and for the first time in a long time he felt a curious twinge in his chest.

       Why does it bother him that Luke (who was still a stranger) was talking to some other guy? For all he knows that’s Luke’s cousin or something. He bats away the negativity in his head.

       He’ll do this right.

       Calum inhales slowly and deeply before striding forward. He feels his heart squeeze in his chest, and he turns back to Michael. His best friend gives him a thumbs up mouthing something along the lines of “Don’t be a chicken” but Calum likes to imagine it was more encouraging than that. Calum smiles and turns back to his dream boy.

       He lets out another breath counting the beats that pound on his chest before he— “Luke!” he calls out in a loud enough voice that the general area around him turn towards him. For half a second, he regrets being so brazen, but he sees Luke’s shoulders jolt in shock. Then slowly (painfully slowly) he turns towards Calum. Even with the bodies between them Calum catches sight of those sky-blue eyes. They’re so big—like the moon. Calum takes the final steps towards Luke and he swears he can see Luke’s lips tremble as they try to make words.

       Calum pushes past people until _finally_ he was in front of Luke. Luke’s eyes search his face for moment. He’s ghosts white for seconds before color bursts to life on his cheeks. A familiar warm scarlet red touches Luke’s cheek and Calum wants to touch him. Hold him like in the picture—maybe even more.

_I found him._

      Then in a tender whisper Luke asks, “You remembered?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your kudos and comments!!! please leave some more i truly love hearing from you guys <3


	5. "I know You I've Danced With You Once Upon a Dream"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last our prince and princess have reunited is it all they've dreamed of? Or will it be a nightmare in the making?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone proud i've updated regularly? just me? haha hopefully it lasts. anyway thank you so much for the great responses last update they made me smile! i hope some of us can be friends~ hope you guys enjoy this chapter--things are getting heated. if you got any questions please feel free to ask!  
> songs used; "you remind me" nickelback, "damned if I do ya damned if I don't" all time low

          “You remember?” His voice is a delicate whisper over party as it recommences—yet his words pierce through Calum like a thin needle. The subtle pain delays and it’s not until the needle is extracted that he can feel the bite of it.

_He doesn’t think I’d remember him_.

            It’s obvious by the shock in those electric blue eyes—even now as seconds fade into minutes of starring at each other Calum knows Luke doesn’t or can’t believe that he remembers him. He doesn’t think Calum would’ve remembered what they shared for even a fraction of night.

            As if he hadn’t meant anything to Calum—it shouldn’t bother him, but it does. It matters to him and he still doesn’t understand exactly why but it does. But does he seem like the type of guy who wouldn’t care about something like that? Someone who would forget so easily?

            “Of course,” he breathes out and moves in closer. Luke stills and flicks his eyes around him—he looks like a frighten fawn. It something about those eyes. They’re so big and wide like they could sallow the world in the ocean they hold.

            Calum coughs and tries to keep a smile on his face yet the way Luke stares at him unflinchingly with those eyes—the size of the moon and color of perfect clear sky—he can’t think straight.

            _I can’t stop thinking about his eyes._

            “Is it a bad thing that I remembered?” Calum’s tone remains playful but not without trying hard to keep it that way. Though he couldn’t hold back the tiny strain in his voice towards the end.

            _Had I been wrong? Is this a mistake—_

            Luke’s eyes widen impossibly more, and he shakes his head so quickly locks of curls fall over his face. Calum feels an itch in his hand to reach out and brush them away from his cherry red face. He knows he shouldn’t, so he stuffs his hand in his pocket.

            “N-No its just I thought you’d been too drunk to remember—but I’m—” Luke stumbles over his words and bites his lip before he moves in just a little closer to Calum.

            “I’m happy you remembered—because I couldn’t forget it.” Luke’s voice was like wisp of a note. Lost to the rest of the world but Calum. He could hear it in his own heart like the first chords of a song he’d known all along but forgot the lyrics to.

            Calum’s full lips pulled into a smile and Luke’s lips slowly matched it. “Do you want a drink? I know where Andy keeps the good stuff.” He says. It’s an obvious excuse to get Luke away from the crowd. He wants to talk to him some more. He wants to listen to Luke’s sweet cadence as they chat over mundane things—he just wants to get to know him.

            “Oh, sure um—lead the way?” Luke brushes his fingers through his hair and bites his lip while he smiles. Calum nods and tries to smile in the most chill way possible—like he does this sort of thing all the time. Except he doesn’t and he thinks his smile looks more a goofy grimace. He turns away from Luke and begins to weave his way through the party people—Luke trails behind him.

            Calum tries to move slowly but with purpose. He knows the way to Andy’s room which is usually off limits but so long as he doesn’t fuck in his bed, he knows Andy doesn’t care. He’s not sure if that’ll even happen tonight with Luke. Does he want it to? If he’s being honest—yes. Calum craves the brass colored angel’s touch so badly it is maddening. Yet, without the liquid courage of bourbon and rum he’s not sure if he’ll go through with it tonight. He mostly just wants to talk to Luke.

            Maybe kiss him. He hopes he can kiss Luke because its what drove him to his moment right now. The warmth of Luke’s lips against his own—the way their lips fit together—the noises Luke made against his lips before Calum slipped his tongue inside his mouth—all the colors he sees in vibrant lights behind closed eyelids every time their lips touch—the swell of heat the awakens inside himself—as if its always been there but dormant—waiting for the right person. Could that person be Luke?

            Calum turns back and sees Luke struggling to push past a few people—too busy mumbling apologies and “excuse me’s” to catch up. Calum presses his lips together before walking back towards him. Luke looks up at him with a sheepish smile—his cherub face painted in faint hues of pink. Calum reaches out and takes hold of Luke’s hand. At first its awkward—the shock of their skin touching for the first time in days makes them both jump just a bit. Luke’s sky-blue eyes meet Calum’s melted chocolate brown eyes—they don’t say anything.

            Their fingers find the spaces in between and slowly ribbon themselves together. Calum gives Luke a slight tug and he falls into step closer.

            “Don’t want you to get lost.”

            This is what they must call an outer body experience because Luke can’t feel anything that is happening right now—he lost feeling in all his limbs the moment he heard Calum call out his name. Yet, he can see it all happening—every second is being recorded—imprinted—seared into the corner of his heart dedicated to Calum. It grows with every moment he gets closers to his dream boy.

            If he’s not careful after tonight all his heart will belong to Calum and not just the little nook.

            Yet he can feel the heat of Calum’s palm against his own. Luke can feel Calum’s fingers in between the spaces of his own. Calum’s fingers are callused and his palms are rough, but Luke likes it. He likes how Calum turned back to him and reached out to grab his hand. Just so he wouldn’t get lost. He liked how he moved closer—so close Luke could smell his cologne on him. It smelled like the autumn night; cool with a hint of spice. He likes the way he smiles at him—Luke saw more dimples than any of the pictures inside his head. He saw the freckles that dotted his bronzed skin. He likes, likes, and likes so much of what was going on—

            He _loved_ that Calum had called out his name in the middle of the crowd. As if he was on a search tonight to find Luke and when he finally did, he couldn’t hold back. It brought a sense of joy to Luke—it was like a tide coming in—slowly but surely, he’d drown in it tonight. If it continued and he didn’t ruin it.

            _He could destroy me if he wanted to._

_I would let him._

            The pair enter the house through the screen door and make their way from the living room to the staircase that lead to the bedrooms. Luke sees this and pauses at the foot of the stairs—he looks up at Calum who notices he’s stopped.

            _See? This is all he wants you for—this is all you’re good for to him._

            The voice in his head mocks him. Luke bites his lip and stays still at the bottom of the stares. Even though he knows he would fuck again if Calum wanted to—of course he’d have sex with him again. His body craved—no ached for Calum’s all week and much longer than that. But he just had to know what this would mean for them—even now as he followed his dream boy, he couldn’t let himself follow blindly into a pack of lies.

            “Oh—um I just I know I said we’d get drinks and we are! This looks super sketchy I know—its just Andy keeps his good beer up in his room and I just really want to talk to you—without having to like yell over music or whatever. But if you’re not comfortable with that I totally get it! We can go back out—” Calum is just as quick to catch Luke as he jumps to conclusion. Luke stares at him as he stutters and babbles—he makes odd hand gestures and his eyes go a little buggy while his one of his eyebrows dances up and down his forehead. It’s all adorable and Luke feels himself melt—he smiles at the awkward boy holding his hand. Calum’s hand is getting sweaty.

            “Its alright—I’d like that…I hope Andy doesn’t get mad at us though.” He chuckles and he can hear Calum let out a breath of relief. He smiles at Luke—his round cheeks ruddy with color. Luke had always imagined Calum far more confident like the man from Saturday night—so sure in his words and actions—but this flustered boy in front of him makes his heart beat its wings furiously with adoration.

            “Eh he’ll be fine what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come on Luke” He says and they’re going up the stairs. Luke’s heart doesn’t settle because now he has a new issue.

            Before when they were both drunk and horny, he didn’t have to worry about talking to Calum. As in have a real conversation that wasn’t broken up by lewd noises and actions. How was he supposed to talk to Calum like a normal real person?

            _Fuck. This is gonna go horrible—he’s gonna realize I’m a fucking loser—_

            “Here we are—” Calum says when he reaches the last door in the hallway and opens it with ease. It seems like no one was allowed upstairs but perhaps Calum was close enough to Andy that the rule didn’t apply to him. Luke knew Andy well—he hopes that Andy wouldn’t get pissed at them.

            Calum walks into the room and heads to the minifridge beside the bed and opens it. He pulls out two artesian beers with a grin—he opens both with the corner of Andy’s desk. The sensational pops bring smiles to both their faces. Luke takes one of the beers and awkwardly sits on the desk chair while Calum sits on the edge of the bed.

            They both take a long slow sip of their beers—silence drags between them. They’re eyes meet and they know they can’t just chug these beers forever.

            _I could try—_

            “So, how do you know Andy?” Calum ask, it’s such a bland mundane, question but every conversation must start somewhere. And Luke has to give him some credit. If it were left to him, they’d spend their time awkwardly drinking in silence until Luke got drunk enough to be brave and do something stupid. Calum would probably walk out of the room from boredom before they even got to that point.

            “Oh, um I met him through my best friend and then I took a photography class last year and he was the TA.” Luke answers, it’s the most coherent sentence he’s uttered all night—and his mouth is already dry. He couldn’t have said something more interesting? He sips at the beer—it’s rich but the strawberry taste is what keeps him drinking. Calum was right about this being good stuff. He doubts it’ll get him drunk very soon by the alcohol content but mixed with what he had earlier there was no telling.

            Calum nods, “So are you into photography?” he asks but sits up to take off his jacket. Luke can’t stop the way his breath hitches up before it happens. Calum’s wearing a tight black button up—it stretches over his board chest so perfectly and hugs his biceps delicately. Luke licks his lips as his eyes wander to the two top buttons that are undone and hints at the ink under the shirt. One, of Calum’s many tattoos peaks out from his collar bone—if Luke remembers correctly, they’re roman numerals. Luke swallows thickly but his mouth feels dryer than ever.

            “I-I needed an art credit outside of my major—I’m shit at drawing, so my best friend suggested photography. I liked it but I’m more into music…I’m a music major” Luke’s voice softens. Whenever he talks about his major outside of his professor’s office or classrooms, he feels like he must downplay it—make it casual enough so he won’t have answer questions he doesn’t want to answer. _So, what can you do with a Music degree? Are you going to be like a professional musician? Why not just go on the X-factor and save yourself the time? What kind of job are you going to get after you graduate? Shouldn’t you-_

            Luke hate it. Whenever he hears an inkling of those questions, he feels the pressure of his choice’s weigh over him like dumbbells—but someone keeps adding another weight with each question. Judged, belittled, scared—these emotions would flare up inside himself and he must remind himself that music has never made himself feel like that. If anything, music had always picked him up when he was down—held him when he felt so alone in the world—carried him out of the flames of his own head and heart—cared for him like nothing and no one else. Music was always inside him—and that’s why he chose to make it his major.

            The blonde boy looks down to the ground because he doesn’t want to deal with whatever judgements may come down on him—but he misses the way Calum’s eyes widen.

            “Really? That’s so cool—what kind of classes are you taking?” he exclaims moving in his seat—leaning just a little closer to Luke. His face is lit up. Luke looks up at the sound of his voice—and he’s caught off guard by the light in Calum’s eyes. The soft lighting of the bedroom makes his eyes glow like a lovely hearth—a fire he would want to cuddle by and dream endlessly next to.

            “Yeah—I’m more focused in composition…writing music and playing the piano.” Luke’s voice is still soft, and he rubs the back of his neck flustered. He’s not sure why Calum is so excited—but his wiggling is quite cute.  Luke hides a smile as he takes another swig of the beer.

            “I’m a music minor—I just declared it this semester. I’ve always been interested in composition—writing lyrics…writing a whole song—but I never felt like I could like do it—until I joined my band.” Calum now is the one who is shy. He toys with the neck of the bottle and looks down at his lap. He brings his hand to his neck and rubs at it—his voice drops at the words “—my band”. His eyes have veered away from Luke, but Luke can’t look away from him now.

            _How did I not know he was in band?_ He stares at the fidgeting boy in front of him with wide eyes.

            “You’re in a band?”

            “Yeah—I mean it’s not anything serious—A buddy of mine needed a bass player and I know how to play the bass. We just do covers but—I’ve been working on my own stuff—hoping with the new classes I’ll get better—of course I don’t start them until next semester, so I’m still shit.” He laughs and Luke hates that he would put himself down like that. Its obvious by the way he talks he really care about his band and whatever he’s been working on. He tries to hide it with self-deprecation—but Luke knows it well enough that he cares. He sees it in his eyes while he talks—as if he can see the notes come together right there—and in his hands calloused surely from playing the bass guitar. It pulls at the strings in Luke’s heart in such a familiar way—it doesn’t quite hurt—maybe because he’s used to it.

            “What kind of music do you guys play?” Luke asks, genuinely curious. For the first time he’s met someone outside of his classes sincerely interested in music—enough to declare it as their major. Someone who didn’t look down at Luke for choosing his passion rather than something practical. Instead he shares the same kindling fire for music. He has to know what Calum plays—what he listens to—who makes him want to jump up and dance—who makes him feel like they bared his soul within lyrics, notes and melodies—he wants to know it all.

            “Oh yeah you know classics—” Calum chuckles before he begins to list off bands, “Green Day, Blink 182, Good Char—”

            Luke bounces in his chair and he can’t stop himself when he practically yells;

            “I love Good Charlotte! I mean when I was growing up- Oh I’m sorry for cutting you off I just—” Luke can’t believe he just jumped off like that—his cheeks burn brightly, and he settles back into his chair. Shame wells up in him and he forces himself to look down at his beer. Yet, as shame swells inside of him excitement rises too and it’s like a church chorus in his chest—a humming reaching all high heavens. He looks up back at Calum who looks at him with a smile. Luke’s blue eyes dance with the lights in Calum’s eyes.

            “No, it’s cool I love them too—but nothing gets me pumped like some Joy Division or Nickelback—don’t care what anyone says they’re fucking good.” Calum puffs up his chest as if he expects Luke to come at him for his choice in music—bring him down but his chest visibly deflates when he sees Luke’s face.

            Luke’s eyes are so shiny like sunlight over the ocean surface. His cheeks are rosy as if they were painted by the petals themselves. His lips part with a breath—they’re trembling into a smile. Calum stares at the expression—feeling speechless. At least that’s what Luke thinks—somewhere in his head that isn’t busy staring at Calum.

            _I think I’m in love._

            Luke knows that he’s a fool but God, does he want to kiss the boy in front of him. But before he scares him off, he laughs breathlessly and brings a hand to his hair. He feels like he’s going crazy—maybe he will end up scaring Calum off. Calum shifts around in his seat in mild confusion yet he can’t take his eyes off the blonde boy with the tipsy smile on his lips.

            “I…I love those bands like with my whole heart. Nickelback gets so much shit but they’re really good.” Luke says, and he swears for a second Calum may pounce on him from the bed—by the dark glint that flickers in his eyes and the way he bites his lip like those are the words he’s always hoped to hear but never has before tonight. But then his face breaks open with a smile—and if Luke was breathless before—now he’s certainly gasping for air because that smile had stolen all of the oxygen from his lungs and the room. It’s the most beautiful smile Luke has ever seen—it’s so warm—Calum’s face scrunches up and cheeks are pink—while his dimples come to life—his eyes crinkle in crescents and he giggles.

            Luke feels his heart climb up his throat—ready to escape and give itself fully, wholly over to Calum.

            Luke swallows.

            “Fuck, how are you real?” Calum asks and Luke wants to laugh again because he’s been asking the same question about him for the last two years.

            _How are you real Calum Hood? How is any of this real? I’ve spent no more than twenty minutes with him up here in this room—and I feel like I never want to leave. I want to talk to him about music for ages—I want to hear about his music—I want to hear him play—I want to read his lyrics—I want—_

_I want to  
            I want to kiss him._

           

            _I want to kiss him._

_I just want to take his face—fit it against my palm like before—feel the heat of his skin again. Will he taste the same or like me—like this beer and strawberries. Will it all be different? Will it all be wrong this time. It is different—because I feel like this is  far more real—he’s more than just a blur of gold and red. He’s a real person and I want to kiss him._

            “Why are you staring at me like that?” Luke’s voice is quiet—just a whisper even though they’re the only two in the room. As if he’s scared to ask. Calum tries to tear his gaze away from Luke’s mouth but Luke is biting his bottom lip and it does nothing to quell the ache inside of him. The ache to kiss this angel.

            Calum runs his tongue over his lips and sees the way Luke’s eyes can’t look away from him either. Once clear blue eyes are fog over with what he hopes is desire—he breaths in slowly before speaking in a soft low voice;

            “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about those lips all week. There is nothing more I want to do right now than kiss you—” _taste you like I did on the dancefloor—feel the warmth of your body on mine—trace the shape of your ass over your tight jeans._ Calum holds his gaze steady, his dark eyes are no longer sparkling with a warm light—no now they’re wild fire trapped inside him. Its waiting—waiting for the angel in front of him to give him any sign he wants it too.

            _Please._

            Luke’s lips part with a single breath before he uses the chair to move closer—the wheels are so loud between their held breaths. He whispers;

            “Please,” the familiar sweet plea sent a blaze over Calum. Now he moves closer, grabbing Luke by his jacket until the chair is in between his legs.

            “Kiss me,” Luke mouths over Calum’s lips and he can feel him trembling against his mouth. Calum groans softly before his hands go down to Luke’s lips and he kisses him. Calum kisses him nothing like last time. Last time he’d been lost to the music and booze. Now, he’s lost in Luke. He holds Luke fiercely—his fingers press against the silk of his shirt hard and he pulls him even closer. Luke’s arms come around him—they kiss like they mean it—like it’s a wish come true—like its all they ever want. As if it’s the last time—he really hopes it’s not because Calum wants to kiss Luke again and again.

            Calum traces the shape of Luke’s mouth with his tongue, Luke’s lips part with a breathy gasp and he lets Calum do whatever he wants. It’s not an explosion of colors and lights its more like the absurd amount of pressure being released and he feels all his bones and muscles melt hotly into Luke. Its like a shot of fire whiskey—it’s a slow burn and it spreads from his chest all the way to his finger tips and toes. It’s so hot—but he doesn’t want to pull away no he wants to bring Luke closer to him. He wants to hold him tighter until neither of them no where one begins and the other ends.

            But Luke does pull away and steals a desperate breath right from Calum’s quivering lips.

            “God, why do you gotta be so good at that?” Luke groans against his mouth. Calum’s head is up in the stars and it takes him a second to realize what the angel has said. A dopey kind of grin stretches over his kissed stained lips.

            “Never thought that’d be a complain.” He muses and chuckles. His forehead rests against Luke’s and he counts their breaths. Finally, he opens his eyes, and _fuck_ he smiles. Luke’s cheeks are so red and his fair lashes fan out with every blink. Those azure eyes are so lost—so big—he feels like he’s ready to dive right into their depths and lose himself even just for another night. Luke’s lips are bursting with color and Calum wants to kiss him again—taste the strawberry and coconut rum on his tongue.

            “I-I didn’t mean it like—”

            “I know babe,” Calum murmurs before he takes Luke’s mouth again in another kiss but its not before he hears the sweet angel whimper.

            _How do I still have bones? Am I still breathing—all I can feel is him—his lips on mine, the corners of his mouth taste like a roman coke? But he’s like honey to me. And I can’t get enough._

            Luke pushes himself off the chair in a desperate act to get closer to Calum—kiss him harder and longer. Its all his body wants—every part of him is wailing and crying out to be closer, closer, impossibly closer. His foot slips and he fall into Calum’s lap. They both stop kissing to smile against each other’s mouths—giggling as Calum takes Luke in his arms settling him on his lap properly. Luke’s thick thighs squeeze his waist and Calum moans into Luke’s strawberry flavored mouth.

            “Fuck, I want you.” He sighs into Luke’s kiss. He sounds troubled by his words and for the first time since they’ve kissed Luke tenses up. His liquefied bones become solid as marble—but just as fragile.

            “Is that bad?” he asks, his lips linger on Calum’s—shaping the words onto his mouth. He chuckles and his hands rub circles over the small of Luke’s back. Luke knows he shouldn’t let himself melt all over again over such a simple touch—but its so gentle and it leaves him shivering under those finger tips. He wants more of it—he was to feel those fingers on his bare skin—wants them to bite into his flesh and leave their mark for days later.

            “If I want to stay Andy’s friend yeah—he’s got strict rules about fucking in his bed.” Calum says, and Luke’s heart stutters. Part of him knew that these kisses were going somewhere—or at least hopes—yet another part of him is still surprised that Calum wants him like that again. He smiles—it’s a shy little thing that he means to hide but Calum pecks it.

            _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I want him so badly—more than ever before—I just want to kiss him—I want him to kiss me like this and more—I want to kiss him all over._

            _But I swear my heart is going to explode—can he feel it?_

_—we’re so close but I want to be closer—so much closer—_

            “Would it be crazy if I ask you to come back to my place? Rules are a little more lax there. We don’t have to fuck—I just don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye yet.” Calum voice is so soft, barely a whisper, his words carve into Luke’s heart. There’s this hint of vulnerability in Calum’s voice and words—it’s so subtle that if Luke wasn’t staring at him right now, he would’ve missed it. But he sees it because he feels it—Calum is scared—scared of what’s happening right now—of what could or won’t happen. Luke will never forget those words or the look in his eyes—even when the voices in his head mock him for ever dreaming for something like this—the real thing is far better than anything he’s ever imagined.

            _Ashton would tell me he told me so—but I don’t care_

            “S-Sure…lets go back to yours—I don’t…I want—” he tries to string his words together, but they fall like spilled jewels—and he can’t find them. They’re lost in the way he looks at Calum—in the way he feels in his arms like this. As if his heart could burst at any second—his skin on fire but he doesn’t want to be put out—no he wants to burn.

            Luke kisses him again—it says, “ _Please take me, I’m yours for tonight if you’ll have me.”_ Calum, kisses him back with ease and receives his message. He kisses _“I want you Luke. I want you. I want you. I want you.”_ into Luke’s mouth and it’s all they need.

            Somehow, they manage to stop kissing long enough to stumble out of Andy’s room. Calum holds Luke’s hand tightly as they go down the stairs and make it out the first door they see. Luke is reminded of Saturday—the blur between the dancefloor and random bedroom. Now, everything between the house and Calum’s car is a blur of lights and unsteady breaths. His heart mercilessly pounds onto his chest with a thunderous song. He follows Calum over the beat and when they’re out—the cool air is like a blast of fresh cold reality.

            _I’m going to Calum’s apartment—I’m going to Calum fucking Hood’s apartment._

            His head spins with how much has happened in just the last couple of hours. How did this all happen? Was it really happening or was he having a fever dream under Ashton’s sheets? If so, he hopes he never wakes up.

            _I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming._

_I’m flying._

            The chilly wind of a later autumn night catches the two—and Luke shivers as his curls are blown into his face. Calum turns back to him—his hand reaches for Luke’s face. He brushes a silky ringlet behind Luke’s ear, and he feels like the wind caught his breath and ran with it.

_No, it’s him—it’s always him._

            “Thanks,” he mumbles and looks down at the pavement the blush on his cheeks under the streetlights is incandescent and Calum isn’t looking away from him.

            _If he keeps looking at me—I don’t think I’ll ever catch my breath._

            “Did you come here alone?” he asks before they move further away from the house and Luke suddenly remembers his best friend. The whole reason why he came to this party—guilt swims in the bottom of his stomach and he reaches for his phone. Calum already has his phone out and is typing something up—Luke vaguely remembers that he had seen him with the blond guy.

            “I cam here with my best friend—” he says and Luke for the first time since Calum has called out his name he inhales with relief. The boy he always seen by Calum’s side was just his best friend—and now he feels foolish for always getting jealous whenever he saw the two of them together.

            “Me too I should tell him I’m—heading out so he doesn’t worry later.” Luke mumbles as he texts Ashton; _Going to Calum’s place!!! Tell you about it later. Don’t wait up for me. Thank you <3_

 He holds his phone for a moment waiting for a reply, but he eyes wander back to Calum who is chuckling at his phone. After a moment Calum looks back up at Luke—their eyes meet and in the soft orange glow of the streetlight he’s

            “Yeah, I gotta warn Michael or he’d just bust into my room later or something. Not too worried though he mentioned meeting someone here.” Calum says and pockets his phone—their hands had fallen apart but Luke already misses the warmth of Calum’s palm.

            _Would it be terrible if I—_

            Luke’s hand reaches for Calum’s. His fingers brush the side of his thumb and in seconds their fingers and coming together again—Calum holds his hand like before but every time its just a little better. They’re both less hesitant and they find the perfect shape faster.

            “Car just down the street. Not too far of a drive either. That’s okay right?” Calum asks as if they hadn’t already agreed to all of this. It’s like he must make sure Luke wants this—wants this as much as he wants it. Luke could laugh but he doesn’t. Instead he takes the half step between them and captures his lips in a fleeting kiss under the streetlamp.

            “It’s more than okay. Lead the way.”

_Luke: Going to Calum’s place!!! I’ll tell you about it later. Don’t wait up for me. Thank you <3_

            Ashton reads the text with a glazed expression—he’s been like that since Luke walked away with Calum but he was gone before they were truly reunited. When he had first seen Calum his eyes lingered on them for just seconds before he met Michael’s green eyes. He tried to read them—but his eyes went back to the man on his way to take his best friend away.

            Now, he sits beside Michael in this dull scene inside of Andy’s house on the living room couch trying to numb away the ache inside him with whiskey. It’s so cliché its laughable but Ashton can’t bring himself to even pretend to laugh at himself.

            _He didn’t look back at me—his eyes were on that guy from the start._

            “Hey, I know this is kind of weird, but you literally look like you’re going to have an aneurism. Are you okay?” Michael’s voice comes to him over the fog inside of Ashton’s head and he hates it. He doesn’t want clarity tonight—he wants to get lost. He looks at his cup and the amber liquid looks so inviting he wishes he could swim in a bottle of it and forget for just tonight.

            _Just tonight—I’ll be you and tomorrow I’ll forget just like you_

            Ashton tries not to think about everything that got him here—yet he knows all his choices since Sunday have brought him here. He actively chose this pain and so he stands quietly and tries to drink it away for just he night. His eyes wander the masses before the settle back onto Michael and for a second, he’s distracted by the twinkle in Michael’s eyes.

            Yet, Michael stares at him waiting for a response and in the slog of whiskey and heart ache he makes his mouth move.

            “…just worried” he murmurs, “I’m worried that we’re doing more harm than good…” he sighs and runs hand through his loose brown curls. It had taken a lot out of him to text Michael last night. Even more to bring Luke to this party—hand delivering him to that guy. When he had watched them reconnect—it was like their bodies were pulled together by some unknown magnetism until they were only breaths apart. Ashton caught the look in Calum’s eyes when he saw Luke—his entire face lit up and Ashton hates that his stomach churned at the sight of it. Because he knows the selfish part of him wishes for tonight to end badly.

            _I’m the worst…_

Ashton recalls the memory from a lovely Sunday morning interrupted by a text message he wishes he never got.

            _When Ashton saw the picture—the alleged snapchat that brought them all of them together he had kept it a secret from Luke. He wasn’t sure what a picture like that would do to his best friend. He could never tell when it came to Luke’s crush on the boy. Ashton didn’t even understand the crush—Luke didn’t know Calum—but he was borderline obsessed with him. He only understood it made Luke incredibly happy and pitifully depressed._

_Could the same be said about me?_

_When Michael had texted him Sunday morning he’d been surprised—the entire situation seemed odd. He wondered who would’ve taken such a picture and why? Yet he saved those questions for later—he focused on Michael’s question “Do you happen to know who the blondie is? Asking for a friend.”_

_Instead of answering the question he asked; “Who’s your friend? Why does he want to know?” His protectiveness over his best friend over powers his jealousy that stacks itself on top of envy and anger the longer he stares at the picture._

_Why does he have to look so beautiful when he’s being kissed by someone else?_

_When Michael replied “My friend Calum Hood. He’s the one in the picture. He just wants to see blondie again” Ashton wanted to toss his phone out of the window. This was trouble—and no answer he gave would end well for him._

_It may end him._

_But he couldn’t not reply—he thought about Luke and what it’d mean to him. To have his long-time crush know his name. Luke would be over the fucking moon over something so small. He couldn’t do that and look at his best friend in the eye again. He typed “Luke Hemmings” and sent it before he could think any longer on it. Then he threw his phone to the side—and flipped over in his bed, pulled the slumbering angel beside him closer. He buried his face in tangled curls and tried to forget it. Maybe nothing will come of it—he told himself so he could fall back asleep._

            “I know we’re kind of taking a chance—playing cupid blindly like this—but I haven’t seen Cal hung up on someone like this in a long time. Who knows this might turn out to be something amazing—and years from now you and me will giving double best man toasts? Or it’ll be nothing. We won’t know if don’t let them try.” Michael speaks so causally—his entire demeanor is relaxed as he leans against armchair beside him. Ashton almost hates that he’s oh so causal about this. Yet, it serves to remind him—this isn’t life or death. Ashton’s gaze lingers on the cat-like grin on Michael’s mouth. It seems to ask, _“why not?”_

            The question haunts him. Why not? Why not? Why not? Maybe because this’ll start off great but somewhere along the line someone will do or say something wrong—and he’ll be the one holding Luke. He’ll be the one to wipe the tries away and keep him away from the bottle.

            Why not? Maybe because Ashton doesn’t trust—or want to trust those emerald eyes. They’re too pretty like sparkling gems. They look like trouble—too much trouble.

            Why not?

            Maybe, maybe, maybe because Ashton doesn’t want to watch Luke fall in love with someone else.

            But he knows he doesn’t have a chance and at the end of the day his Luke’s friend first. He never wants that change that. Whether things go well or up in flames he just wants to be at Luke’s side. Always.

            “Maybe you’re right.” Ashton takes a sip of his drink. The whiskey has lost its burn—he drinks anyway so maybe he can dilute the night and the light in Michael’s eyes.

            “You’ll learn soon that I’m always right.”

            Ashton laughs at that and for the first time all day he means it—maybe it’s the alcohol finally taking its hold of him. He doesn’t care because Michael is smiling at him too and his lips are very pink. Michael’s gaze stays on him for a moment, but his hand holds up his phone showing a text conversation.

            “So, seems like our plan has gone well enough if this text is anything to go by. But I could have just been sexlied from my own apartment.” Michael glances at the screen before he looks at Ashton again. His pretty pinks lips are frowning, and Ashton finds himself frowning too.

            “Wanna go back to my place?” he asks without a second thought—whiskey always believes that second thoughts are too expensive—waste of a perfect opportunity to do something stupid. And this was probably a very stupid thing—yet when he looks at Michael, he can’t help the way he sways in closer.

            Michael bites his lip and asks “You sure? Like its cool?” and Ash just nods his head before throwing his arm over Michael’s shoulder.

            “Course is it! But first we need to do shots—celebrate our success as matchmakers!” he proclaims and stands up in bolt fashion. It’s a mistake because his head lolls back and his eyes feel like smudged lenses.

            Ashton can feel it—the world tilts back and forth like he’s on a boat. It’s not unpleasant—but he knows he should be careful. He smiles grabs the bottle of vodka on the table—someone had left it there after they poured drinks for themselves. Ashton unscrews the cap and pours into his empty red cup. Michael watches with an utterly amused look—the corners of his mouth are pulled into a lazy grin and his eyes shift from the cup to Ashton—not believing he’ll do it. But he doesn’t know Ashton—not this Ashton half way down a bottle of Jack and working his way to Vodka—not this Ashton who wants to feel anything but the beat of his heart.

            Ashton tips the cup back and scrunches up his face over the bitter liquid but drinks it all. He holds the bottle out to Michael who raises a brow at him and chuckles all to himself before he pours some into his own long empty cup.

            “Shots, shots, shots” Ashton chants while waving his fist like the drunken frat boy he likes to pretend he isn’t. Michael downs the shot with a face—like a squished kitten and Ashton laughs at that. His legs can’t hold him up as he laughs, and he falls back onto the couch—very close to the green-eyed boy. Michael smiles down at him before asks,

            “Okay, so when you’re not worrying about your best friend’s love life—what do you like to do?” Michael’s voice steers him—keeps him in the moment with the sound of his voice. Its light in tone but maybe its because they’re so close now it feels so low—like the vibrations of each word are sent through Ashton. He looks up Michael—his voice may steer him to clarity, but he gets lost in the stars of those evergreen eyes each time he looks at them.

            Ashton laughs, he must seem so odd to care as much as he does. Or maybe its obvious to Michael how hopelessly in love he is with his best friend. Though he prays somewhere in sober corner of his mind that Michael can’t tell—because then this will be a lot more awkward than it probably already was.

            “Well, when I’m not babysitting Luke—I’m running things at my frat house along with the president. I’m a psych major and in my senior year so my classes have only one goal murder me or graduate. I work at the mall at Foot Locker which just as lavish as it sounds. Now, if we’re talking about actual free time?” Ashton runs through his mundane life easily with the same sardonic humor he’s always had but it always flows out his mouth so much easier when alcohol wets his lips. He looks in front of him and there’s nothing there—he turns to Michael who looks strangely captivated by something. The green in his eyes look almost mossy in this light.

            His mind wanders as he thinks about his life outside of Luke—its been awhile since he had to actively think about. The first thing that comes to mind is his home—the frat house and all the work he’s put into over the last three years. The brotherhood there that he’ll always cherish with his members. Then of course his psychology classes which astound him even in the blandest classes like STATS. His job is just temporary—he hopes the clinic he interns in next semester will hire him after he graduates, and he’ll get to begin his life after college. He rarely talks about these kinds of things with anyone other than Luke. Even his hobbies are reserved to his best friend—he wonders when did his entire life become just about that blonde blue-eyed angel. When did he let it get like this?

            “Yeah your actual free time. When I’m not trying to cry my way through Math homework, I’m doing live streams on Twitch or watching whatever new Netflix original is out. Not super interesting but everyone has their downtime activities what are yours?” Michael leans in closer shifting his body so he’s completely turned to Ashton.

            Ashton purses his lips before saying “When I have actual free time, I like to work on some video editing…and my drumming.” His voice is soft as he speaks, and he ducks his head down for a second before looking up at Michael. Michael listens, brows raise up in genuine surprise and interest.

            “Woah, you’re into editing? Like what kind of stuff?” he asks, and Ashton wishes he wasn’t so drunk.

            “I’ve worked on small stuff with Andy like some trailers for student films and music videos for music majors. I enjoy bringing a certain kind of flare that speaks to the specific pieces.” He hopes he comes off as eloquent as he sounds in his own head instead of word vomit. Michael nods, he tilts his head a little and his fringe falls over his eyes. Ash doesn’t think before his hand his reaching for him—brushing back long locks. Michael stares at him with wide eyes but he doesn’t pull away he just asks;

            “And the drums?”

            “Purely to let out all the rage from within.” Ashton answers, he tries to keep a straight face, but he giggles until his cheeks are red. Michael laughs and shakes his head—he presses his lips together before saying softly;

            “You know I’m glad you asked me out.” Then he waits for Ash to react because he likes it when Ashton gets all flustered over the little joke. He always picks up on the teasing lilt in his voice, but he stumbles over his words and gapes at him like he’s never been on a date. Michael knows that isn’t true. Drunk Ashton is all of that wrapped into one broken mess.

            “This isn’t a real date. You know it.” He murmurs and there’s a subtle weight in voice. Does he wish this was a real date? Michael shrugs at his words.

            “Perhaps. But I know how to turn it into a real one.” He whispers and he’s got a that look in his eyes—they gleam brightly under the low lighting of the living room and the gold flecks in them spark to life like wild embers—Ashton knows its trouble and yet he asks;

            “How?”

            He swallows thickly as he watches Michael lean in closer and closer until he can smell the vodka on his breath and citrus in his hair. Ashton knows he should pull away, but his eyes are half lidded, and he dips his head down just as Michael says, “Like this,” and he kisses Ashton.

            Ashton kisses Michael back.

 

            Friends are notified of the nights plans and the pair get to the car. It’s a simple black Honda accord from like 2011 (or something). Luke hardly looks as the car—why would he when he could look at Calum Hood? That’s the only Hood he ever wants to get under. Calum walks him to the car and opens the passenger door for him—a gentleman. Luke can’t help the goofy smile that spreads over his lips and tries to keep his head to hide it as he climbs into the car.

            The car smells like Calum but with a hint of leather—it’s clean too. Luke peers around and notices the sunglasses hanging from the rearview mirror along with a cinnamon scented air freshener. The smile still hasn’t gone away he buckles himself in.

            Calum turns on the car and seconds later the radio comes to life, lyrics blare through the speaker.

            _“—this is how you remind me…”_

            The familiar lyrics send electricity through Luke’s veins and he hops up in his seat. His head jerks down to the radio before he turns to Calum.

            “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m a fan. I was listening to this before I got to the party—to help get me hyped and not run back home.” Calum confesses and Luke can’t—won’t ever get over the way his chubby cheeks redden, and he barely catches it in the running street lamps.

            _He was nervous? How could he be nervous—he’s Calum Hood._

_I feel like I’ll never stop shaking._

            “Can you start it again?” Luke asks, looking at Calum who steals glances at him. He smiles and hits the button on the steering wheel. The music cuts to a miniscule silence before the lead singer begins alongside the guitars.

            _“Never made it as a wise man_

_I couldn't cut it as_

_A poor man stealing_

_Tired of living like a blind man_

_I'm sick of sight without_

_A sense of feeling_

_And this is how you remind me”_

          Luke starts singing softly and Calum follows along with him but as the song builds so do their voices. Luke is smiling wider and wider with every word that falls from his lips. He starts rocking to the age-old favorite—his hand flailing to the beat of the drums and beside him Calum laughs over lyrics. He knows he looks ridiculous, but he can’t find it in him to care. For one blissful second the voice in his head is quite and all there is Nickelback and Calum’s sweet laughter.

         The car feels as though its soaring through the road, powered by their scream singing. The windows are down and their voices drape through the town like capes. They harmonize like they’ve been singing together their whole lives—but sometimes their voices fall apart into laughter because of how silly they’re being—and they can’t stop.

         At a red-light Luke jumps over to Calum and cups his face—kissing him hard and quick just before they’re bathed in the green light. He whispers;

         “You make me crazy.”

_And I love it. For years I thought you’d always be miles away in day dreams—and tonight I’m wrapped around your finger. I feel like I’m losing my mind—yet this high is so incredible—I don’t want to fall and ruin it._

         Calum opens something inside of him—he unhinges Luke’s inhibitions and allows him for just a fraction of the night to go wild.

         He sings a new song in Calum’s ears, _“Damned if I do ya—damned if I don’t”_ his voice purrs and maybe he’s really drunk. He laughs when they nearly swerve out of their lane.

         “Fuck, you’ll get us killed.” Calum yells but he’s smiling so wide—and somehow, they reach their destination and he’s parking the car.

         Calum doesn’t bother to turn the car off and he reaches for Luke—pulling him by his shirt. Luke gasps even though this is everything he’s ever wanted. It’s a shock that runs through his veins all through his system and leaves him trembling. They kiss again—mouthing lyrics in between breaths as music pours out of the speakers. Luke’s climbs over his seat and onto Calum’s lap again. He cradles the boy’s head as he kisses him long and hard—tasting remnants of fruity beer and rum on his tongue but all he knows is Calum. His tongue glides over the seam of his lips before Calum groans and lets Luke take his mouth for a moment—let him stake claim over the intimate space—and Luke whimpers into the kiss because he feels it everywhere. A terrible ache—a greedy starving feeling—a wailing ghost within himself and its fed by Calum’s kisses, the touch of his hands on his hips and the look in Calum’s eyes when the kiss breaks.

          It says _“Don’t ever stop. I need this right now.”_

          Luke leans forward the tip of his nose touching Calum’s he steals the breath between their mouths and kisses him again.

_Please don’t ever stop._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this chapter! thank you for the kudos and comments please give me more i need validation :,) or i feel like i'm just screaming into the void. kidding! your comments mean a lot to me <3


	6. Dream With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just smut. You're welcome. Maybe???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys enjoy this! Took me awhile but its finally here. Also I made a playlist for this fic and if you'd like to listen to it: https://open.spotify.com/user/12187096018/playlist/3CvNhVlc7W4PtXqecjKIEY?si=vBqCNtOrTZaop4jTNnCs5g

      Luke doesn’t remember how they got from the car through the front lobby and up the stairs of the apartment complex. They’re both still high off guitar riffs and angsty lyrics. He remembers the whistle of the wind following their steps. He remembers the kisses between each step—every breath he grasps from Calum’s lips. Right before their lips locked together again. He doesn’t remember which floor Calum’s apartment is on nor the number on the door. Which wasn’t safe and distantly in his head he hears Ash’s voice reprehending him for it but he’s too busy kissing Calum until he’s blue in the face to care.

_I could do this forever._

      How could he not when sweet plush lips bruise his mouth with each delicious kiss they share. They dance over shoes by the door and hang onto each other as they stumble over their own feet past the couch in the dark. They sallow each other’s laughter, and again neither of them knows where one starts and the other ends. They just wrap around each other tighter—Luke’s arms around Calum’s neck and Calum’s hands on his hips biting into the flesh under the silk.  They twirl through the apartment until a bang echoes through the silent dark apartment. Luke’s back is against a door. His eyes flutter open and he stares at Calum waiting for what comes next. Calum said they didn’t have to have sex—he just didn’t want to say goodbye. What does that really mean?

_Do we kiss again? Or go back to the living room and pretend to watch a movie when really all we want to do is—_

      “I’ve thought about kissing you so many times. I wanted to kiss you like the first time—but better and remember how, why I lost it all to your lips,” Calum croons into Luke’s ears and his knees buckle. The words play over his spine like piano keys—like he knows just how to play Luke just right. Calum’s arm around his waist holds him up. His eyes water with desire, and Calum looks at him ready to dive—to drown.

_I want to catch him._

     “Kiss me, kiss me, Calum please” he begs and the knob beside his hip turns, the door opens. _Oh, shit_ he loses all footing and he had been leaning against the door—he thinks he might fall but Calum holds him. Calum’s arm is wrapped around his waist and he hoists Luke up back to his feet. Luke is taller than Calum—but in that moment he feels almost dainty.

_Fuck—why did I like that so much? I can feel his muscles flex against the small of my back—fuck, fuck, fuck._

     “I got ya—” he says, and Luke’s hands are on his shoulders clinging tightly—because he doesn’t want to let go ~~ever~~. Calum smiles at him and Luke feels like a kettle singing because he’s getting too hot.

     “Please Cal—"

     “You always ask so sweet—so polite—but you know how to take what you want without asking.” Calum’s full lips curves into a smirk, and for the first time tonight Luke is reminded of the man from Saturday night. The man who was all hands—held him from behind and led his hips side-to-side, pulled him closer until Luke could feel his cock grinding on the swell of his ass. The same man who whispered scandalous things into his ear before he kissed him right there and nibbled on the skin until Luke moaned in the middle of the dancefloor.

     Luke feels his spine tingle with new notes drumming down him.

     Yet, he can’t remain wordless not when Calum taunts him with that smile—it sparks something inside him. He wants to show Calum just who he is—what it means to toy with this angel.

     “Should I stop? Should I just beg? Get on my knees for you again? You like me like that?” Luke’s voice goes coy like a purr. Though it’s the way he fans his lashes and stares at him through them—hooded blue eyes ready to swallow Calum whole if he lets him. He watches the way Calum’s breath hitches and mouth twitches before he catches his bottom lip between his teeth. Then he smirks again, but its far sharper and Luke’s body turns to jelly in his Calum’s arms.

     Calum leans in and murmurs “Pretty angel. I haven’t forgotten the way you went down on your knees for me and sucked me so good I saw stars.” He brings his lips to Luke’s ear; his voice drops so low and so does Luke’s stomach. It twists into tight knots while Calum’s lips ghost over his cheek, down his jaw until he’s right under it, he kisses that spot and his teeth sink into the vulnerable flesh—Luke whimpers at the first bite. Luke tilts his head back letting Calum have at it—have him.

     “Cal—” he starts but his voice falls to pieces with a moan as Calum sucks on the spot. He colors it under his warm tongue. Calum’s lips move down until they meet the cool metal of the heart shaped pendant that dangles over his adams apple. Calum mumbles “Cute,” and kisses it before taking a step forward and taking Luke with him. He keeps moving—making Luke walk on his jelly legs. They keep going until Luke feels the back of his thighs hit the bed. Calum grins at him before he drops the angel onto the bed.

     Calum’s body pins him to the queen-sized bed—but he doesn’t dream of getting away. He wants this—he wants Calum on top of him kissing him—whispering the sweetest things to his ear.

_Its lies—he’s lying—why would he ever—_

     “Do you know how good you made me feel? I’ve been dreaming about this mouth,” he pauses the work he’s doing right under Luke’s jaw to move back up to his lips and kiss him ever so lightly. Luke can’t breathe—he can’t move—he’s not even sure if he’s there anymore. But when he feels his cock swell against his underwear—rubbing against the lacy fabric he mewls; “Calum”.

      Calum mouths his way back to the hollow of Luke’s collar bone. Calum dips his tongue into it before his teeth graze the bone. His finger begins to find their way to the buttons of Luke’s shirt. He caresses the silky red of the shirt and rubs over the black velvet roses over Luke’s nipples. He feels the angel squirm in his arms, and he can’t help the smirk he presses into Luke’s hot skin.

      “—dreamed of you since Saturday—and fuck I wish I hadn’t drunk so much—kept you longer that night—found you sooner—anything to have you like this again.” Calum groans when Luke finally pushes his hips forward and rolls them slow and nice. They moan in union.

      “Please don’t stop…don’t stop talking…I’ve dreamt of you too.” Luke confesses, but its only a fraction of the truth.

_Calum has dreamed of me for only a week but I’ve danced with him in my dreams for days, weeks, months, years._

_And even so, this is enough to flood my heart. The ocean is inside me but it’s on fire._

 

* * *

 

     “Luke, Luke, Luke”

     Calum sings into the angel’s ear and he preens under Calum. He pushes up into him trying to chase Calum’s mouth. Yet, Calum can’t let him have it all—won’t let him because he loves the way Luke whines under him—squirms his hips asking more, more, more.

     Black buttons come undone and Luke’s pale chest spills open revealing perky nipples ready to be tasted, touched and teased. Calum’s tongue laps over the broad expanse of Luke’s chest and goes for the left nipple first. He circles his tongue around it until the nub is so hard and it practically throbs against his tongue—Luke arches into his mouth—his fingers grab for Calum’s head to keep him there.

     Calum’s quick hands take hold of Luke’s and pin them both to his sides. “Cal—” he groans and whines loudly, but he doesn’t let him. He squeezes Luke’s wrists telling him to stay put—and the brassy angel mewls in submission.

_Fuck, why he gotta be so good at this_.

     “Sweet angel you taste like candy,” he muses over the ruddy pink nipple before he bites at it and pulls on it—pulling sounds from Luke he’s never heard himself make before.

     “Cal-Cal-Cal” he stutters into the hot air and his fingers tear away at the sheets. Calum chuckles over the wet skin before he moves to the other nipple—and takes it in his mouth greedily. He sucks on it slowly, drawing out each lick, bite, kiss to the swollen bud before he lets go with a soft moan.

      Luke’s cock stretches his skinny jeans in impossible ways. He needs to get naked fast—he bucks his hips up into Calum’s and he can feel it. Feel Calum’s hard cock press down on his thigh and his eyes roll back for just a second over the memory of it.

      He lets go of the fair angel—Luke’s hands immediately go to Calum’s waistband but Calum lightly swats him away. Luke’s kissed stained mouth puckers into a pout.

      “W-Why?” he asks and Calum’s already placing new kisses down his stomach—that makes Luke freeze under him.

     Calum licks over his happy trail—kissing right under his belly button. Luke flinches as he nibbles over the softest part of his subtly toned stomach—and for just a flash of a second, he’s reminded of all the reasons he used to hate that spot.

     “Whats wrong?” Calum’s head comes back up—he reaches Luke’s eyes—his nose brushes over the pointed tip of Luke’s. He stares at Luke waiting—but Luke tries to sallow a whine building in his throat.

_How am I supposed to tell you that I use to hate all of this—all those parts of me you’ve kissed so tenderly—how I can hardly stand it when the lights are on and both of us are sober. I can’t hide the stretch marks that run over my hips—I thought I was over this—beyond this—I wear crop tops and I don’t hide anymore—but for you—for you Calum I wish I was perfect._

     “Nothing—I just—want to be good for you…pretty for you.” Luke whimpers and he feels Calum’s hand caress over that same spot its like his chest collapses within itself—lungs punctured by broken ribs.

_Please—_

_I want to be good enough for you._

     Calum hovers his face over Luke and he holds a heavy gaze just breaths apart. The lights are off but the window above them streetlights are like a spotlight and Luke hates it. He hates it even if those lights casts shadows in them—a candle lit flame comes over him under that gaze.

_Don’t look at me like that—_

     “What are you on about?” Calum asks and Luke blinks at him blankly.

     “You’re so good…too good…” he murmurs into a kiss over Luke’s lips. His hands take hold of Luke’s hips before they slide down his thighs slowly. Luke trembles violently under him.

     Yet, he so scared if he moves anymore then this dream will break away to reality and he’ll fall into the stained-glass shards.

     Though, when Calum moves down his kisses follow him again—from Luke’s lips he moves to his neck brushing over the mark right under his jaw—and then to his chest where he lines kisses right down to his soft stomach, but it tightens under Calum’s mouth. He lays gentle butterfly kisses all around Luke’s belly button—they’re so light that Luke can’t help that burst of giggles that pop from his throat like bubbles.

     “so soft…so pretty…you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen. Like an angel.” Calum whispers right over his v-line and then his lips move to hip. They trace over the bones and stretch marks ever so lightly—Luke can feel tears cascade down his redden cheeks.

_This is bad. This is so bad. If he doesn’t stop—_

_I’ll never stop wanting him._

     “sweet angel…sweet angel…I need to taste more of you.” He bites into Luke’s hip and waits until the skin blooms into violet and indigo blue between sharp teeth and small kisses.

     “do it…do whatever you want…I want you—your mouth—tongue—everything” Luke gasps out loud just as Calum’s head moves over his crotch and he’s between Luke’s legs. His fingers play at the button of Luke’s jeans before he undoes them and his eyes catch the red lace.

      Calum stares at the way the lace just barely holds back Luke’s hard cock—it strains against the delicate fabric—making it all look like a little present.

      “What do we have here angel?”

 

* * *

 

     Calum’s fingers draws down the bulge underneath the lacy red fabric and watches Luke writhe beautifully. His pale body curves into every touch Calum grants him—his lovely kissed bruised mouth is parted, and the melodies of lust pour out of him. He can feel the precum seep through the thin material. Luke whines out and he quivers as Calum’s fingers rubs over the spot—the lewd noises made between them carry in the dark apartment.

     “Look at you…so pretty in your panties…so wet and hard for me angel.” He coos as he keeps toying with Luke’s hard cock. He presses his hand onto Luke’s cock—palming him through his panties—Luke cries out as his hips jerk into Calum’s warm palm.

     “Please, Calum—” he begs but he can’t even make out the words for what he wants. He wants so much. Calum can tell by the unhinged desire that spills from his eyes and stains his cheeks. Calum wants to give it to him—all of it when he asks so desperately.

      It’s crazy how Calum feels his own desire well up inside himself—but he’s not sure what he wants more. Give in to the weeping angel and give him everything he wants—or tease the angel until it sobs and cracks before he finally gives it to him.

      “Don’t worry baby I’ll take care of you…now be a doll and lift your hips for me.” Calum’s words are gentle but his voice leads no room for disobedience. Not that he would force anything on Luke—he can tell he likes it. He hopes at least—and is reassured when Luke does what he’s told and brings his hips up with a pitiful sound.

      Calum, pulled Luke’s jeans off and throws them to the side leaving the trembling angel in nothing but his lacy scarlet panties and red silk shirt. He stared and drank the vision. The red was so stark against Luke’s skin—the intricate lace did very little to hide anything, but it was enticing enough—it looks so nice on Luke too. The shirt lays undone around him Luke’s chest heaves up and down in short breaths—faint marks are highlighted by the light that pools in from the window. Calum’s eyes move up—and he feels the remnants of his breath as its stolen. Luke’s curls are crowned around his head like lovely little halo—his moony blues eyes are dark with dilated pupils.

_He can’t be real. What earthly creature looks like this?_

_I feel like I’m losing my mind the longer I stare into his eyes—I’m convinced that he only made of light and feathers but when I kiss him, I taste alcohol and fire._

     “Please, touch me Calum,” Luke pleads and Calum swears under his breath.

     Calum wants to remain in control like he always is. Whenever he has sex, he’s controls of what he does and how he feels—but when it comes to Luke he’s quickly realizing that there is no such thing as self-control. Not when the angel was so willing.

     Calum’s hands go to Luke’s hips again—and he hooks his fingers under the panties—he pulls them off slowly—dragging them over Luke’s skin and cock making him whimper. The sweet noise makes Calum so weak—he can feel it in the way his grip slacks and even his head dizzies. Yet, at the same time he feels something hot building up inside of himself.

      Is he made of fire or is he burning from the inside out?

     He can’t find it in himself to care right now.

     “Gonna make you feel so good angel—will you let me? Let me take care of you?” Calum asks as he slides the panties down Luke’s thighs and lets them drop by his side.

     Luke looks to him, eyes wet with new tears, he licks his red mouth and his breath is so unsteady. He nods his head but it’s not enough.

      “Use your words Luke.” Calum lightly slaps his thigh and Luke freezes—Calum feels panic surge within him. The action had been so quick, and he had hardly thought about it. _Fuck, I fucking scared him now. Fuck—he’s going to hate me—I should say something._

      “I-I’m sorry—” he begins but Luke’s hand reaches for him placing it on the one that just slapped his thigh. Calum looks at it and then back Luke and he swallows thickly. Luke’s biting his lip, his cheeks are so red, and his eyes are hazy—his cock twitches and throbs on his belly.

     “Don’t.” he whispers first as he rubs a tender circle over the tattoos on Calum’s hand—following lines blindly. Luke bats his fair lashes slowly as if even a blink is far too long to go without the boy in front of him. Calum can’t breathe. He can’t move.

      “Be sorry…I liked it—I like it when you’re rough, but I want you to take care of me.” He says softly and Calum melts under its dulce cadence. It’s all he needs—more than he needs to move forward before he thinks too much and runs away because he knows he’s losing it. He’s going to lose everything to his angel.

      Calum moves back and pushes Luke’s legs further apart before he dips down in between them.

_I want to taste heaven_.

* * *

 

     Ashton can taste Michael under the vodka. He tastes like cranberry juice and beer. It’s an odd combination but he doesn’t care. If he did, he wouldn’t be doing this right now. Michael is smiling against his mouth and Ashton likes it—even though his gut is twisting into horribly tight knots. For a second an image of Luke comes to him and he wonders what his best friend would think of him. Would he be angry? Jealous? Sadden?

      The image of Luke walking away with Calum comes to Ashton and he suppresses the urge to scoff—of course he wouldn’t.

      Ashton kisses Michael a little harder, his hand comes up to cup his cheeks and fingers graze against the short bread.

      He likes the kiss—the feeling of Michael’s pink lips on his—they’re surprisingly soft.

      Their lips move together slowly, neither of them in a rush. Why should they be? They’re going home together anyway—Ashton finds it funny how it feels kind of backwards.

      He laughs and the kiss stops. Michael opens his eyes and he stares at Ashton with his brows furrowed together and his lips pulled into a grin of uncertainty.

     “Never had someone laugh like that after I kissed them. Not sure if I should be flattered or run away crying.” Michael says and for the first time his smile wavers. Even in his tipsy state Ashton sees it and its like a spike of sobriety shot through him.

     “No, no I just find it funny—we said we’d go to my place later and now we’re kissing. Its backwards.” Ashton giggles, his cheeks are pink from much more than just the booze. Maybe it has something to do with the way Michael licks his lips and the fact that he doesn’t want to look away. Michael’s lips curve into a grin and he chuckles breathlessly, it tickles Ashton’s mouth.

_I want to kiss him again._

     “Oh yeah could see how that’s funny. Next, I’ll meet your parents and then ask you out on a real date.” Michael jokes, and Ashton throws his head back in a laugh. Its loud a little high pitched but Michael smiles and laughs a little with him.

     “Tell your parents I’ll bring you back by 10 and I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Michael keeps going with the joke and Ashton laughs harder because of the image is pretty ridiculous but all the whiskey and vodka has got him on cloud nine. It’s not even that funny but he’s laughing like it’s the funniest thing on earth.

     “Where would you take me on this PG third date?” he asks as he rests his head against the back of the couch.

      Kiss forgotten—or not because his eyes flicker from Michael’s eyes to his lips. Ashton’s eyes follow the way Michael shapes his words. From here, he notices for the first time that Michael’s two front teeth are bit longer than the rest.

_Cute._

      “Oh, you know I’d take you to the pop’s dinner for a milkshake—maybe I’ll be brave enough to ask for two straws for one shake. Then take you on a walk and hold your hand—finally kiss you on your cheek before your mom opens the door.” Michael goes on to describe a date straight out of some 1950s sitcom. Ashton giggles at the image while his hand reaches for the green-eyed boy. He grabs Michael by the hips and pulls him closer. Michael lets out a squeak-like noise as he so suddenly brought closer to Ashton again—so much closer he’s nearly on the tipsy man’s lap. Ashton leans in so his nose is just barely touching Michael’s.

      “And if I’m the one who gets handys?” he asks his voice a low drawl and he smirks when he sees how big Michael’s eyes get when he falls against Ashton. He can feel Michael trembling in hands, but the boy doesn’t move away. Michael climbs into Ashton’s lap like the seat was meant for him—and Ashton can’t help but laugh lightly.

_Oh. He’s something else._

      “O-Oh well I can keep a secret if you can.” He whispers but Ashton doesn’t miss the small stutter. His smirk curves into something just a little bit darker—he dips his head down whispering “Oh I can,” and he kisses Michael again.

* * *

 

_I want him to destroy me._

     Luke doesn’t understand how he got here. He keeps questioning because never once before tonight did, he ever think he would lay in Calum Hood’s bed naked. The boy of his dreams sits between his legs lifting them up onto his shoulders and Luke tips his head back and closes his eyes. He tries to center himself—but how can any of this be real? Calum is his dream boy, the man of his insane crush for the last two years, the center piece of everyone of his fantasies.

     Now, the boy made of dreams and wishes was making all of his wildest dreams come through—every midnight wishes would come alive with his lips. Luke isn’t sure he’ll live through this and perhaps that is why the universe is being so giving. Because after tonight there will be nothing left to give to.

     Even so Luke chants in his head; _I want it. I want it so bad. I want him so bad it hurts._

_I want him to fuck me in every way possible. Fuck me with his tongue nice and slow until I’m dripping wet and then—_

     “you’re so soft…” Calum whispers into the tender skin of Luke’s inner thigh. His thick lips kiss the warm smooth skin—Luke watches himself go over the moon.

     “Ah,” he mewls as Calum continues to trace his inner thighs with kisses all the way down to his balls—Calum fleetingly licks over them and ignores the way Luke calls his name out in a desperation.

     No, he keeps moving until he makes it to Luke’s hole.

     “Look at you…so pink…pretty—but you look so hungry too just waiting to be filled up huh?” Calum breathes right over Luke’s puckering hole and he preens. His eyes see flashes of white and Calum hasn’t even done anything yet. His hot breath on the wrinkled pink rim is enough to get his cock throb violently, precum dribbles out of the slit and slides down his length.

_Please—_ the word is on his tongue but Calum is faster.

     Calum’s tongue circles around the rim and Luke moans so loudly—it’s a broken wild sound that bounces off the walls. It reverberates through Calum and he stops for a second.

     “Calum,” Luke stretches out the two syllables like a chorus—and Calum wants to hear another melody so he licks the ring of muscles again—pushing his tongue through until it’s being swallowed by those tight ringed muscles.

_Calum, Calum, Calum_

     Luke crescendos as he feels himself brought to the edge of oblivion again and again. Calum doesn’t let up with his ministrations—he moves tongue expertly inside of Luke. He licks the hot walls and pushes trough until his face is in between those luscious cheeks. He eats out the angel like its last meal—he groans over the taste again and again. Everything he does sets Luke off—he’s trembling violently on his back—his hands are trashing and clawing at the sheets. His cock is so hard and red—he feels his face wet with tears—his voice breaks over the bridge of the song he sings in praise of the bronze god in between his legs.

     “Fuck, Calum fuck, fuck, fuck” he curses his dream boy’s name again and again—Luke’s forgotten all other words. All he knows is Calum fucking him with his tongue so well—and its driving him insane.

     “Please,” he whimpers as Calum pulls away—empty is how he feels without the wet hot muscle inside of him. He blinks wet lashes at Calum who glows with a light all his own in the darkness.

_You aren’t real._

     “Talk to me angel—tell me everything you want.” He whispers, licking his lips, eyes dark with a unsatisfied hunger. He’s not done yet.

     “Fuck me with your tongue. Make me cum with just your tongue.” Luke groans as Calum’s hands take hold of his ass and squeeze the full cheeks before pulling them apart.

      Calum’s eyes meets Luke and he smiles at him—he looks godly—in the darkness his eyes are bottomless, and his skin is radiant as the dim light from the window pours over him. His perfectly full lips pull into a smile and Luke feels his heart cut away at the fleshy strings holding it up.

     “Can do that angel. I’m gonna make you see stars.” He says before he flips Luke onto his stomach. The action is so quick and rough Luke hardly had the chance to gasp—he falls onto his stomach and his cock aches with the friction of the sheets. He tries to lift his head and turn back to Calum—but Calum is busy.

     “Cal—”

     “Sorry too rough for you doll?” he asks before he pulls Luke’s legs up getting him in the perfect position to finish his meal. Luke whines softly but he loves it—the feeling of Calum’s calloused hands moving his body every which way he wants.

     “N-No but could you warn me next time?” he mumbles into the sheets and Calum’s laugh tickles his spine. Calum’s hands on his hands grope the flesh until Luke swears there will be tiny bruises in the shape of fingertips tomorrow—he doesn’t care—he moans into the bed.

     “Fuck, your ass gotta be the best ass I ever fucked—so big and soft” Calum says so lowly its like he’s talking to himself, but Luke hears him and is glad that he can hide the blush on his face—but he wiggles his ass just for Cal anyway. Just so he can hear him groan at the sight of his ass cheeks jiggling.

     “Being a little tease now are you baby?” he asks, and his palm comes down on Luke’s ass its not as light before, but the sting is still faint—Luke whines into the sheets but pushes his out asking for more.

     “You really do like it huh? Like it when I play with your sweet ass—spank it until it gets all pretty and pink like the rest of you? Too bad I want to finish what I started—maybe I’ll spank you next time.” He muses as he leans over and kisses the small of Luke’s back down to the red handprint of his left ass cheek. Luke mewls softly while his cock throbs again—he’s so close—he won’t last long when Calum puts his tongue—

     “Oh,” Luke tilts his head back again and his nearly roll back when he feels Calum’s hot tongue back inside him licking him all around, he starts to thrust his tongue in and out and Luke is convulsing in desperation.

     “Cal-Cal-Cal—Calum!” he stutters embarrassingly as Calum’s tongue pushes so far inside him he sees blinding colors all around him.

_Oh, fuck—please. please, please—_

_End me before it ends because I won’t be able to live after this_

_Without him and his tongue_

     Calum makes slurping noises as he tongues fucks Luke relentlessly, his chin is wet with how hard he’s going but he doesn’t seem to care. No, he wants to go longer, further, harder—but Luke’s cock is leaking. Luke’s stomach is nothing but fire hot knots—he feels it his orgasm is climbing the stairs to heaven at rapid speed and he knows he’s going to fall any second.

     “Oh, fuck Calum!” he cries out with his fist tight around the sheets—and those black sheets are now white with the cum that pours out of his cock—his head throws itself back and he moans out a note in the shape of his dream boy’s name—it carries until he breaks and crumples into the soiled sheets.

     Boneless is what he feels when his hips are no longer jerking wildly into the bed. Luke feels like his mind nothing but a cloud—it smells like cinnamon and sweat.

     “Fuck,” he hears Calum groan from behind and Luke is pulling himself up by some miracle. His body turns itself to look at the boy who just made him orgasm like no one else. It had felt like his entire body was bursting with colors and lights—and when he finally came down, he only saw one light.

     The one in Calum’s eyes—it looked starved even though his mouth was wet with cum.

     “Did I get cum on you?” Luke asks and his voice is all too serious—Calum laughs again its airy and so child-like. Its out of place too with what just took place.

     Calum licks his lips and grins at Luke before he’s moving in closer. “Maybe. I don’t mind. I wanted to taste heaven—got what I wanted.” He says as he traps Luke on his back again. Luke doesn’t understand again how this man moves so fast—but he doesn’t care not while he stares into those flame lit chocolate brown eyes.

     “Did you like it?” Calum’s voice is hush of a whisper and it caresses Luke’s ears as he presses a kiss to his cheek. Luke’s brows screw together—

     “Did I like it? I never came so fucking hard in my life.” Luke says breathless and Calum’s chuckle is like velvet against his naked warm skin.

     “Good, I wanted to make you feel good.” He murmurs as he kisses Luke’s jaw. Luke feels so warm as Calum kisses him so gently—post orgasm makes his muscles feel heavy but when Calum kisses him he feels like he can fly into the night sky and touch the stars.

     “Made me feel so good—” Luke mumbles as he brings his hand to Calum’s cheek and moves his face so he can kiss him on the lips. Their lips meet and the kiss is like a tender hug that falls into a graceless dance. Its messy and soft but Luke likes it because Calum’s mouth is so hot. Calum moves on top of him and Luke feels something so painfully hard press into his thigh. His eyes fly open and he parts the kiss with a gasp.

     “Fuck, you’re so hard—will you let me—” he whispers as his hand comes down in between their lower hands and his fingers undo the button. Calum breathes in slowly—groaning when the zipper is open and his cock springs out. Its so thick and it pulses with greedy life. Luke vividly remembers the girth of it yet it still takes him by surprise as he rubs his hand through Calum’s underwear.

     “Please,” he moans into Luke’s ear and its all he needs. He sinks his hand into Calum’s boxer briefs and wraps it around his length. Luke moves his hand quickly at first—stroking Calum’s hard cock with feverish movements but when Calum’s voice breaks away into pitched whines and breathy moans he knows that Calum is close and he stops.

     “Fuck Luke—please don’t tease me I can’t take it.” He whines and Luke finds it so cute that just minutes ago Calum had him begging—now the tables have turned. Luke feels his own soft cock twitch at the sound of his voice. He wonders if this is how he sounds when he sings—he wants Calum to sing for him.

     “Kiss me,” Luke mouths by Calum’s ear and his dream boy wastes little seconds to connect their lips in a kiss. It’s a heated lip lock that is messier than before—teeth and tongues clash as Luke jerks him off harder and harder. He bites on Luke’s lower lip and drags the red flesh—pulling a moan from the golden hair boy.

     “Harder, please God faster—” he moans into Luke’s mouth and Luke follows through. He keeps jerking him off until his hand is wet with precum and sweat. He thumbs over the slit digging into as it leaks more pearls of cum. Calum trembles on top of him—his hips buck so violently into Luke’s hand, but he takes it.

     “I want to make you feel good,” he whispers and Calum whimpers—he’s gotta be close.

     “Luke,” he dips his head into Luke’s shoulder and bites into a new spot—his mouth tirelessly sucks on it and muffles any noises—plucking at Luke’s throat like a broken guitar—their moans come together in union like notes of a song all their own.

     Calum bottoms out—his body curves into Luke and he buries his head deeper in the crook of Luke’s shoulder. Luke thinks he hears him call out his name—maybe he’s hearing things, but he hopes, wishes, dreams in the sound of Calum calling his name out in all the different ways possible.

_Luke, Luke, Luke_

     He hears in his head but Calum’s lips are right by his ear moaning—and maybe he’s not dreaming. If so, he never wants to go to sleep again.

* * *

 

     In a tangle of sheets that don’t belong to him Luke moves restlessly. The question comes back again How did I end up here? Naked beside Calum. Again.

     He wasn’t even that drunk this time—he was painfully sober now as he laid there under the dark sheets. Luke remembers the short moments at Andy’s deck when everything had been so mundane right before Calum called out his name and brought the world into harsh technicolor. He remembers Andy’s room and the short time spent between strawberry flavored beers and Nickelback. The first kiss that cause an explosion from within—the kiss that followed them out to the car—the lyrics they screamed into the night—the laughter that echoed within the apartment as they were a tumble of limbs—and finally every touch, kiss, and orgasm that had them both under the sheets spent. His mind carves the details of tonight the fleshy walls of his heart.

     The scent of sweat and dried cum lingers in the air but this pillow smells like Calum—like cinnamon, cloves and bourbon. Luke inhales the smell deeply—hopes Calum doesn’t notice it—but he loves the scent so much its all he wants to breathe in. He never wants to forget it.

_How could I? This is everything I ever wanted and more—_

_Calum touched me like I was made of glass but kissed me like he wanted to break me—like he knew I wanted it too._

     “Are you gonna go?”

     Calum’s voice cuts into Luke like a hot knife to butter. He melts effortlessly at the raspy whisper—it makes his skin tingle even when he thinks his limbs are nothing but dead weight. It reminds him of those harmonic cries of _“Luke, Luke, Luke”_ that had torn away at Calum’s throat and left their mark—so he wouldn’t forget either.

     But his words catch him off guard—he lifts his head and looks at Calum. “huh?” he breaths out. His heart stutters and begins a race where it’s the only runner—and it still might lose.

     Calum moves in the bed turning to Luke wants to ask a more coherent question—but the words scratch at his useless throat—he’d always been vocal during sex, but he found that he was louder with Calum. As if his body was hyper sensitive to his dream boy’s touch—yet that couldn’t be it. Calum just knew how to get him to new octaves. It was like Luke was an instrument and Calum was a master at it. His fingers alone can pluck sounds from him that Luke had never heard before. He had screamed, cried, moaned like an unhinged demon. Now, as he lays there with his throat raw, he finds it a little scary how Calum possessed such a power over his body. What was scarier was that he would do it all again if Calum was the one touching him. Fucking him with more than just his tongue.

     But would Calum want that again?

_Is he asking me to go? Fuck—if he doesn’t want me here after all of that._

     Luke feels his heart squeeze itself painfully so—even his breath is choked out of him at the thought of Calum wanting him gone.

_All he wanted was to hook up again—I should go before I ruin it_

     Luke feels him begin to jerk around in the sheets ready to bolt but Calum speaks again.

     “Last time…you left and I kind of wish you hadn’t…”  Cal mumbles, his face lays on the pillow and he faces Luke—he’s only a kiss away. His face glistens with the after glow of an orgasm and Luke loses all will to move under his gaze. Calum’s chubby cheeks are flushed a soft red. Luke blinks.

     “Wait you remember?”

     Calum frowns before nodding, his hand reaches for Luke—it rests on his side before he caresses the skin. Luke shivers, and wishes it wasn’t so obvious but Calum does it again and _Fuck, I love it. Please don’t stop_ —He preens into the touch like a kitten.

     But Calum remembers that Luke had been the one to leave first—he hadn’t wanted Luke to leave then. How drunk had Calum really been?

     “Yeah. Why do you think I would forget you?” he asks and there this faint hurt in his voice and Luke hates that he is the cause of it. It makes his insides taut with shame.

_But you’ve forgotten me before._

_What made you remember this time? The sex?_

     “I don’t know—I just—we were drunk I wish I hadn’t left either.” Luke confesses and he sees all the tension in Calum release like the air in a balloon. But his mouth pulls into a small smile—his bottom lip trembles just slightly before he asks;

     “Will you stay this time?” there is a silent plea in his words, his voice, his eyes as he stares at Luke.

     Luke knows he would—could never leave.

     “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos and comments they mean a lot!


	7. Morning Bursts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i disappear for awhile? yes. do i have my reasons? yes. are they all good ones? no. but i hope you enjoy this short chapter as i try to get back on track of my writing.

     The next morning comes in degrees. The sunlight pours over Calum’s queen-sized bed it tingles over his exposed skin. The morning is quiet but the sound outside the window trickles in—birds singing to themselves or the world. The distant sound of cars rushing by and all the other mundane noises of a morning come together in white noise. Normally Calum wakes up easily—living with Michael has made him quite the light sleeper. He never knew when his roommate may kick his door down and demand they go to IHOP for breakfast or some other nonsense. No, this morning what makes him stir out his deep sleep is the unfamiliar feeling of another human’s weight over his arm. That thing is dead asleep—yet he can’t bring himself to pull away from the slumbering angel beside.

     His mind slowly brings yesterday with lucid images that feel more real with every breath Luke release. The sunlight over Luke’s golden curls is brilliant—dazzling—beaming—they’re like ringlets of starlight. Luke’s skin is so warm, and he smells like roses and cinnamon.

     Calum can’t look away—he doesn’t want to.

_If I woke up to this every day, I can’t imagine ever having a bad day again._

     Luke stirs in Calum’s arms and panic surges in him—he doesn’t want this to end. The last time he tried to cuddle someone after hooking up he came out of it with a bruised elbow.

     This is the first time he’s held someone like this (other than Michael when either of them needs a good cuddle). He just wants it to last a little longer before the dreams falls apart.

_Please._

     He looks to the angel and his eyes trace down to his elf-like nose that twitches. Luke buries his nose in the pillow and rubs it as he settles back to sleep. Calum smiles endearingly at the adorable boy in his arms. He wants to hold him closer, longer, tighter.

     Calum knows it’s a bad idea by the way his heart stutters within his chest and his mind yells at him to stop—Its dangerous. You’re already getting too attached. Pull away—but he brings his free hand to Luke’s cheek and caresses it. He can feel the subtle edges of bread coming back. He likes it.

     Luke is so pretty but Calum likes the things that are more masculine about him too. Like the suggestion of a 5’oclock shadow, his broad shoulders, and tonged legs that seem to go one for miles and miles.

     “Oh, morning.” Calum says, surprised to see Luke’s fair lashes flutter open—slowly like the wet wings of a butterfly. His azure eyes are pale under the sunlight—and for a second, he doesn’t seem real. Even with the zit right under his left eyebrow.

     “Morning,” he rasps, voice broken with the remnants of last night. Calum doesn’t even bother to hide the amused grin on his face. Sleepy Luke doesn’t catch it. Calum’s stare doesn’t waver—he can’t get enough of those drowsy baby blues.

     “How are you feeling Luke?” he asks and Luke’s face bursts into color. The sun paints his blush a peachy rose shade—it’s the loveliest color. Calum wants to kiss it.

     “G-Good…um you?” Luke asks and his voice is still raw from sleep and the night before even after he tries to clear it.

     “Pretty well,” that was an understatement. His chest is buzzing to life with a hive of bees. Luke stares up at him and wonders what’s going on in that pretty little head.

     “Sleep well?”

     “Yeah…really well.”

     Calum bites his lip and tries not to dwell on those words—but the smile on his mouth fights to be seen—to be felt. He knows he shouldn’t, but his heart is steering him—he dips his head down and kisses Luke’s nose. He doesn’t miss the small noise of surprise Luke makes—the way he can feel the blonde’s breath hitch because they are just that close right now.

     Calum wonders if Luke can feel his breath—his heart beating steady and hard on his chest to a song he can’t find the chords too yet, but his fingers are itching to play.

     “I’m glad you slept well. I hope…that all of last night was good for you—like it was for me.” Calum murmurs and he wonders if its too early to being getting sappy like this, but he doesn’t want to hold back right now. Right now, in this moment as the sun bathes them in its warmth and their curled up under his sheets—he just wants Luke to know he liked last night.

_I hope…I hope he doesn’t regret it. He stayed right? That must mean something—_

     “I really liked last night. Even before we got here, and we were being really stupid in the car…and before that…I liked all of it.” Luke’s voice is soft and rich like velvet. His words though make Calum melt as he holds him. The blush on both their cheeks is intensified by the sunlight but theres a smile in Calum’s eyes and Luke’s mouth matches it.

    “So, how about some breakfast?”

     It feels utterly unreal—as if Luke woke up in a dream. That’s what it was like to wake up next to Calum. It came to him as shock when he first opened his eyes and found a pair of soft brown eyes staring at him so tenderly. Calum’s gaze had cradled him as if he never wanted him to wake up. Luke’s heart still feels the aftershocks of it—and it leaves the foolish mound of flesh and blood weak.

_Why is he looking at me like that? If he doesn’t stop, I don’t know what I’m gonna do._

“breakfast?” Luke question almost like he’s never heard of the word—his head takes a second to piece together what Calum is insinuating.

      Calum chuckles and beings to sit up but his hands linger on Luke—taking their time to pull away before he stretches them over his head. Luke sits up a bit faster though his body chills with the lost heat of Calum’s body no longer press to him.

     “I can offer you coffee, bagels, toaster strudels if Michael hasn’t eaten them all. Or we could go out and grab something.”

     Luke stares at Calum and lets everything around him—(Calum’s room; it’s a wide spacious room with a large bed at the center, the closet is in front of him, there’s a desk with a laptop on it, he doesn’t miss the guitar case at the corner of the room)—everything going on—Calum getting out of bed and walking over to the closet. Calum isn’t wearing any pants or a shirt. He’s only got a pair of snug black boxer briefs. The stretchy material hugs every curve of his hips and his ample ass—Luke’s throat suddenly feels horribly dry.

     The sun catches Calum’s bare back and for seconds that stretch out into tiny infinites Luke feels himself launched back to the first day he saw Calum.

     The sun dances over his skin—he’s radiant under its love. He belongs under those warm rays always.

     Ink coils like rippling snakes with every move he makes, and Luke remembers the first time he saw those tattoos how they had made his mouth water at the sight. Now, he remembers the taste of inked skin on his tongue that lingers in the corners of his mouth. Luke tries to sallow, but his throat is so dry it cracks as he tries to make sounds in the shape of real words.

_Fuck I gotta stop spacing out he’s going to think I’m weird._

_But I still don’t know how to feel any of this. I’m living my absolute dream—two years ago I wished Calum had been walking out of my shower looking the way he did. Now—now everything is different and so much I’ve been wishing is real—my heart feels like it’s climbing and climbing up something that feels endless—but what if I do each the end—the end of this dream and I wake up to a nightmare?_

_What if I’d still want him even after all of this?_

     “C-Coffee is just fine.” He manages to say, there is a hint of a smile but its all he’s willing to show now. He can feel it—the fear the creeps along with the glowing warmth that wants to spread all over him, but fear corrupts it. Fear comes over him like a second layer of skin and it steels itself against his vulnerable flesh. Last night he let himself go for just a couple of stolen hours—but that didn’t mean he stopped feeling like this forever. The tension his chest restrains his heart—it counts the beats until it slowes down. That feeling inside of him will always be there laying in wait just right around the corner of his mind.

_Relax. Don’t freak out in front of him. He’ll never want to see me again if I just lose it. Its okay. Everything is okay. Breathe, in and out Breathe, in and out Breathe in and out._

     Ashton’s voice comes to him steady and soft—the mantra he always played when he felt like his lungs were being squeezed all their air. Ashton’s voice was always so calm even when Luke felt the world come apart all around them.

     “Just coffee? I can toast a mean bagel. Also, I am the champ of pouring milk into cereal in this apartment.” Calum jokes as he pulls open a small drawer inside the closet. In his hand there’s a bundle of sweats and two hoodies.

     Two hoodies.

_Two hoodies?_

     Luke stares at Calum’s hands tries to quiet the fluttering inside his chest. He can’t get too excited because it might be nothing at all—

_Maybe he just can’t decide between the two—where are my clothes?_

     Luke peers around the room but he can’t see much under the tangle of the sheets and duvet. Just as he thinks about rummaging around under, he hears the soft pads of Calum’s bare feet against the hardwood floor. Each one echoes in his heart with a beat.

     “Here, you can um change into these. I hate having to wear the same clothes as the night before. And while you looked so hot last night—you might want to wear something comfy—or could I be totally wrong, and you don’t want to wear something basic?” Calum does that thing he seems to do whenever he’s kind of nervous. He babbles, the words fall over his lips quick and endlessly until he’s out of breath and his cheeks are patchy with a ruddy red. Calum holds the clothes between them—just close enough for Luke to reach but still close enough to himself to take them back.

     Luke stares up at Calum and sees himself reaching for the dark blue hoodie and grey cotton sweat pants. His eyes are like crystals reflecting from the inside just how bad he wants it—this.

     “Thanks, um I’d like to wear—your sweats. Wait no I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t feel squeezing into my jeans again—I like sweats. There was a time in my life when that was all I wore—uh jeez I need that coffee.” Luke wants to crawl under the bed and just die. Calum isn’t the only who awkwardly babbles when he doesn’t know what to say—but it’s cute when Calum does it. Luke bites his lip and lets the heat of embarrassment sallow him—he peers up at Calum who is smiling at him. It’s such a warm little smile, a gentle tug at the corner of his mouth and even then, those lovely dimples appear. Luke feels his stupid heart swell with something he can’t name.

~~He doesn’t want to name.~~

     “I’ll go make that coffee for you. Let me just get you a towel and toothbrush.” Calum says and Luke tries to catch his breath though it constantly slips between his fingers—right into Calum’s hands.

_Thief. How much more will you take from me?_

_How much more will I just give to you. Willingly._

_Until there is nothing left._

     Calum walks out of the room as he tugs the hoodie over his head. As soon as he’s out the door Luke gulps in a mouthful of air—for the first time since he’s woken up, he feels his lungs pump with life. But they’re full of Calum.

      The shower is uneventful. It’s just a shower. But it’s a shower inside of Calum’s bathroom inside his apartment. That alone makes it more than a shower, but Luke is a little busy trying not to drown himself in the cinnamon and brown sugar shower gel that he guesses belong to Calum. Its sweeter than the way Calum actually smells but he loves it—its so warm and makes him crave his kisses that were just a tad bit spicier when they tasted like bourbon and rum.

_What would it be like to kiss Calum when he hasn’t been drinking?_

_Would he taste sweeter?_

      Luke wonders as he brushes his teeth with the fresh out the package toothbrush Calum gave to him. He wonders if Calum does this often enough that he has this sort of thing ready. Luke ignores the twinge in his chest—it braids a new knot into the mess that his stomach is. Luke looks at himself in the mirror; his curls are springing back to life now that they’re wet but soon, they’ll become a fizzy mess. He wishes he had a hair tie to keep the wild mane tame. His skin is pale, highlighting the zit right under his eyebrow—he can see his uni-brow sprouting back—he needs a shave—and, and, and—

     Luke turns away from the mirror, his eyes fall to the sink and he breathes in slowly. _One, two, three_ —he counts inside his head before he reaches for the sweats on the countertop. He tugs them on followed by the hoodie—its warm, the fabric soft like its been worn a million times.

     It doesn’t smell like cinnamon but more like the faint flowery scent of fabric softener. As if it’s been washed recently. Luke knows he shouldn’t, but he pulls the collar close to his nose and inhales deeply—

_Its so nice. Fuck I never want to take this hoodie off._

      Luke takes another sniff and swears to himself he’s not being as creepy as he looks in the mirror. He forces himself to stop smelling the hoodie and combs his fingers through his wet curling locks. Finally, he leaves the bathroom. The hallway he walks into is bare, but it leads out into the living room.

      The living room is spacious like the rest of the apartment. The ceiling is quite high, and the white walls make them seem endless.  The interior design is quite minimalistic—but what’s expected from a couple of college kids? At least there aren’t beer cans and laundry littering the floor. There’s a sectional in the center of the room with a recliner adjacent to it. A flat screen sits proudly on the wall and there is a coffee table with a couple of old mix matched mugs, unopened mail and textbooks that’s just about the only messy thing here.

      The kitchen is quite plain too. It’s all white with light brown hardwood cabinets. There’s a stove and fridge to one wall and the sink across from them. There is a small table in the center with only four chairs.

      “Do you have only one roommate?”

       Luke isn’t sure why that’s the first he asks, but Calum who has his back turn to him fiddling with the toaster jolts in place.

      “Shit, you scared the hell outta me Luke.” Calum presses his hand to his chest but there is a grin on his mouth. Luke smiles and walks further into the kitchen.

      The smell of coffee is strong it wafts in and out with every breath Luke takes. Just that is enough to give the two brain cells in his head playing pong some juice.

       “Sorry, it’s just this place is pretty big. It’s nice.” Luke moves just a little closer to Calum. The boy is in just a hoodie and his underwear and it’s such a look—at least to Luke who can’t take his eyes off him. His eyes dart from Calum’s profile to the curve of his ass and his thick thighs. He bites his lip as he tries to watch Calum pull out slices of freshly toasted bagels and grab a clean plate out of the dry rack all at the same time.

        “Ah, ah, fuck” he mumbles as he tosses the slices of bagel onto the plate with a frown. Luke chuckles but tries to look guilty when Calum shoots him this pitiful look licks his burnt fingers. His dark brows are screwed together, and his lips are so red and plush around his thumb—Luke swallows and turns his attention to the food. Distantly he can hear his stomach growling but another kind of hunger threatens to awake itself too.

     “Right, well it’s actually just me and Michael. We totally scored with this place though—as far as off campus residency goes. But it pays to get your application in early. Mickey and I learned that the hard way last year when we tried to room together on campus. We ended up in Hartford Hall.” Calum deadpans and Luke winces because he knows all too well how awful that first year hall is. It has no elevators, no A/Cs, only one ice machine and the carpets probably haven’t been cleaned since 1978. Plus, all of the showers smell like foot fungus always.

     “Jeez, how did you guys survive?” Luke asks with a barely hidden laugh—he shouldn’t be laughing but again its Calum’s face that pulls all the giggles from his lips. Calum has this dramatically melancholic look to his eyes, a twisted frown—it’s like his having war flash back. Luke hiccups another giggle and it pulls Calum out of his tortured memories of dorm life. He smiles at Luke.

     “Just barely. But this time I made sure we had first pick and viola.” He gestures around at the apartment. He smiles around at it proudly. Luke nods as he glances around but his eyes are quick to fall back on Calum. His dream boy pours a freshly brewed coffee into a mug in the shape of pug’s head.

     “Oh my—I love that mug,” Luke gushes as he reaches for it even though it’s probably too hot to touch. Calum looks his way and grabs the sugar and cream. He’s got that all too warm smile. Like it’s meant for roasting marshmallows—and kissing all night long.

     “That’s my favorite. Mikey got it for me for my birthday. You can use it.” Calum urges when Luke hesitates to take it. Luke bites his lip and stares at Calum’s eyes who are earnest.

      It’s such a small thing but Luke feels like he’s taking and taking—at some point it’ll be too much, and he knows the universe will demand its payment. Yet, he knows he’ll be all too willing to give whatever it takes to let this morning last just a little bit longer.

      “So, you like dogs?” he asks as he timidly takes the mug after he pours sugar and cream into the bitter bean juice.

      “Like is an understatement. If I could adopt every dog in the world I would. But Mikey thinks it might not be legal. Something about stealing dogs from good families? Nonsense they’re all my kids.” Calum grumbles before he takes another mug, this one is in the shape of a penguin with a Christmas hat.

      Luke feels an intense flutter in his heart.

      “I’d let you adopt my dog but only if I got to visit her every day and give her cuddles until the day I die.” Luke says into his cup and Calum sputters through his next sip.

      “You have a dog?”

      “It’s the family dog but she’s mine.”

      “Can I see her?

      “Sure, let me just get my phone.”

 

      Luke doesn’t know how it works. He doesn’t remember the last time it was so easy to fall into conversation with someone. As if the words were just there ready to come out every time and every pause was spent in breathless laughter and lingering stares. The words flow out of them like a steady stream and the only occasional bumps. But he loves the sound of Calum’s voice. The way he can speak in a low and controlled tone before it pitches up whenever he gets really excited.

      “How long have you’ve been writing music?” Calum leans over the table, they’re sitting across each other enjoying the bagels and coffee. Luke’s fingers are covered in cream cheese and he can’t help it when he puts his fingers in his mouth and sucks the thick cream off. It should look gross but Calum’s eyes are on his mouth—and for a second it looks like he’s forgotten his question.

       Luke knows he shouldn’t, but he runs his tongue over his lips slowly before he answers, “I’ve been writing music badly since I was in my second year of high school. It was when I was getting real emo and well instead of listening to my Physics teacher, I’d write random lyrics into the margins of my notebook. Just words and lines I’d put together—couldn’t stop thinking about them—and then I’d put them together in one piece and somehow, I had a song. It was horrible—all about how I didn’t fit in or care except I totally did.” Luke chuckles bashfully, memories of his adolescent make him want to cringe but when he glances at Calum he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he looks at Luke with wide brown eyes that sparkle with wonderment. It reminds him of a kid listening to a fantastical story. It makes Luke feel like whatever he says Calum is listening and he cares. He’s interested—invested.

     “Woah, that’s insane. You must be good now though after so many years—and taking classes. But I bet even your old stuff is good, just the fact that you started writing so young is huge. I wish I started writing sooner.” Calum says, he’s got this soft far-away look in his eyes even though there’s a smile on his lips it’s sad.

     “Why didn’t you?”

     Calum glances up at Luke and his stare lingers before he tries to make the sad smile turn into something friendly. But its too late. Luke saw it and he knew smiles like that better than anyone.

     “I just didn’t think it was a possibility for me. Which I know isn’t a good reason but when you live in a world where people only let you do certain things for as long as you can remember—something like music and song writing isn’t even an idea that comes to you. Even when you feel like you’re going to burst with everything inside of you and maybe a pen and paper would’ve saved you back then.”

     There’s silence. It’s not awkward but Luke just wants—needs to let to those words sink in. If he hadn’t gotten the bright idea to put all those words and feelings spinning inside his head to paper—where would he be today?

_Would I even be here?_

     “I think things got a little too heavy for breakfast. Um—I gotta go take a piss.” Calum tries to make a smooth exit but he’s put this gaping wound on display and Luke can’t look away. He shuffles out of the kitchen. Now Luke sits in a silence all his own.

_Fuck._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your kind comments and kudos!


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